


The Forgiven and Harry Potter

by NezzKind



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Expanded Universe, F/F, Gen, Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 94,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4579440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NezzKind/pseuds/NezzKind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We are not the Chosen Ones. We are not the boys and girls who lived.</p><p>The night Voldemort fell, Dumbledore and Mad Eye knew he would one day return.</p><p>Until then, dark wizards continued to lurk the shadows, threatening the new age of peace. The Wizarding World still needed guardians, and with the Order of the Phoenix disbanded, Dumbledore and Mad Eye founded a new coven in its place. One that was smaller, younger, and vastly more deadly.</p><p>They recruited us.</p><p>We were trained to be preventers. To be the ones to snuff out the fires while they were still small and to tip the scales whenever Voldemort should return.<br/>Armed with sarcastic jokes, crooked morals, and the permitted use of the Unforgivable Curses,<br/>We are “The Forgiven”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Damned Chosen One

** The Forgiven and Harry Potter **

_By Nezz_

_._

** Chapter 1 – The Damned Chosen One **

**. **

**. **

“ _Expelliarmus!”_

A sharp, red flash blighted the witch’s eyes and sent her crashing into the brick wall behind her. Intense currents of electricity shot up and down her fingers, ordering them to release the wand in her hands. But the woman bit down and forced herself to fight off the spell’s effect. Too often had she witnessed the loss of a weapon quickly followed by the loss of one’s life.

It took everything she could to keep the wand from flying from her hands. As a result, a large crack opened down the middle of the wand.

_Better damaged than unarmed, I suppose—!_

With that bitter thought, she turned from the main road and ducked into the dark alleyways.

_*Pant* *Pant*_

_How did they know where to show up? What the bloody hell is going on?!_

_*Pant* Pant*_

_And of all the Aurors in the world, it had to be the damned Chosen One—!!_

The woman could barely see two feet in front of her in the lightless alleyways. She scraped the walls with her shoulder and elbows. Her streak of bad luck only continuing to grow.

No broom, no magical devices at her disposal, no allies, nothing. Just the cloak on her back and a broken wand.

_Damn it! Where the hell are Liar and Norse?!_

She turned a corner and slipped on a puddle from earlier day’s rain. The witch managed to catch herself and keep running, but lost precious moments she could have used to widen the distance from her pursuers. Not that it mattered since the next corner she turned to was a—

“Dead end…”

Dim moon light shone on the wall in front of her. She ran her hand across its bricks, hoping the darkness hid an opening from her. No such luck.

The witch looked down at the cracked wand in her hand. It would manage one spell before it was completely useless, and a weak one at that.

_Should I Apparate?_

_No, that’s what they want. They’ll track me right after and then where will I be?_

““Lumos!””

A pair of voices resounded behind her, and the witch shielded her eyes from the two shining lights.

Aurors Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had caught up and illuminated her appearance. The woman was in her late twenties. Dubious scars marked her harshly cut face. Blue colors streaked her jet black hair tied into a ponytail. Her eyes possessed a harsh, silver glint to them. She was a touch shorter than average and, although, covered by a thick cloak, the witch moved with a body possessed of a lean, athletic build.

Harry and Ron treaded carefully around her. Going by their basic Auror tactics, they split up; each slowly closing in on their own side of the witch. They trained their wands on her, ready to cast their quickest spells at a moment’s notice. As they drew closer, eyes fell on the witch’s left wand hand, particularly, the forearm.

The sleeve had been torn in the earlier tussle and revealed the Dark Mark underneath; the sign of a Death Eater.

The two Aurors squinted at the skull and snake tattoo.

She felt their attention concentrate on it and grimaced.

“You’re making a mistake. I know how this looks, but I am not your enemy, Potter,” the woman told them.

The witch’s voice had a sharp clarity to it, despite being low and deep.

“Well, good then. You’ve got nothing to worry from us. So just put down the wand and let us take you in. Believe me, you don’t want to try dueling with a broken wand. Personal experience,” Ron warned.

“Idiot. You saw me take down those Death Eaters. We’re on the same side.”

“I also saw you curse five of our colleagues.”

“Collateral damage. They got caught in the spell. Nothing they won’t walk away from.”

“And then you used the _Killing Curse_ on two of your mates.”

The witch paused.

“……Okay. I admit that part looks pretty bad.”

“Lower your wand and stand down,” Ron told.

“They were going to blow your friends away. You two as well, if you care to remember.”

Harry took a step forward. “Look, if you’re really not our enemy, then lower your wand. Let us take you in and I promise we’ll hear you out.”

“Not going to happen, _‘Chosen One’_. You’ll have to pry this wand out of my cold dead fingers.” She smirked. “Well, _if_ _you can_ , that is.”

Harry paused for a moment. “…How _did_ you do that before, anyway? I’ve never seen someone take an Expelliarmus spell and keep their wand.”

She gave a bitter smile.

“I’ve heard that’s your go-to move. Hurt your pride a bit, did it? You don’t last long if you don’t learn to keep a death grip on your wand. But thanks to that…” She glanced down at the crack in the magical instrument. “…I’ve got maybe one spell left? Guess I’m taking at least one of you down with me.”

Ron and Harry visibly stiffened and halted their advance. They both weighed the options and communicated nonverbally to each other. Little did they know, the mysterious witch was merely buying time with her bluff.

Suddenly, from above them all, another witch with glowing blonde hair jumped down from an adjacent building. As she hit the ground, she drove her wand into the earth like a dagger.

The concrete floor pulsed with yellow veins streaking across the pavement. In the next second, the ground split open and roared. Rocky fragments erupted like a freshly tapped geyser. The shockwave blowing Harry and Ron off their feet.

They scrambled to find their footing again, but before they could—

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

 _“_ STUPEFY!”

Harry’s wand flew from his hands as he was knocked back by a red stream of lightning. Likewise, Ron was stunned unconscious by a similar scarlet bolt. Both of them landed twenty feet away.

Harry titled his head up to look on his attackers from his stomach.

Three dark figures now stood in the dimly lit alley. From what he could tell, the mysterious witch they were chasing cast the Disarming spell, while a _third wizard_ appeared, and cast the Stun spell on Ron.

The witch stared down at her now completely broken wand. Seeing it was unsalvageable, she tossed the remnants aside with cold indifference. She moved next to her blonde comrade, who automatically handed her a replacement.

The golden haired witch retracted her wand from the cracked ground it was stabbed into. When she did so, Harry noticed something peculiar about it. Unlike most wands, hers was made of steel, likening it to a thin knife or rapier than a wand.

Harry glared at the party of three, who strode towards him. The male wizard stopped in front of Ron and tapped him a few times with his boot. He was a slim man, wearing the same simple cloak as his accomplices. His hair was cut short and had a rune tattoo burned below his right eye. He looked to his comrades and then Harry.

“I do believe we’ve just stepped in a rather tall pile of shit…” he said with a poetic voice. To which, his two allies glared at him.

The yellow haired witch, who possessed a large, muscly physique, began scribbling words into the air with her wand.

The wizard responded to the writing, “What do I mean, Norse? I mean, we just took out everyone’s favorite golden boy and gingerkin. The whole wizarding _world_ will be after our arses after this!... Not that a lot of them aren’t already…”

The blonde woman named Norse seemed to be writing another response, when the witch they had been chasing interrupted them.

“Save it for later, you two. It’s possible we can still contain this.” She turned to the wizard. “Liar, how did the Aurors know where to show up in the first place?”

The one named Liar shrugged.

“Dunno. S’pose we should find out.”

The man walked over and crouched in front of Harry. Before the he could protest, Liar locked eyes with him and at the same time, touched his wand to Harry’s temple.

The disturbing feeling of Legilimency could be felt as Liar looked through his memories with skilled mental handling. Even though Harry had undergone Occlumency training with Snape, and additional training during the Auror’s curriculum, he was still unable to block the man from his thoughts. Whoever Liar was, his mind reading magic was at an absurdly masterful level—a skill honed over years upon years of use.

“……Something called CCTV,” Liar muttered after a time.

“What the hell is that?” the mysterious witch raised an eyebrow.

“It’s those cameras all over the place. Records stuff and uses ‘facial recognition software’ or some other shite like that.”

“Muggle technology. So invulnerable to spell manipulation and Memory Charms— _wonderful._ ”

“Yup. Let’s see here…” Liar probed Harry’s mind further. “Ah, yes. We can thank Ms. Granger for that. Seems she’s worked something out with the Muggle government. As if she wasn’t enough pain in the arse already. So, boss. What graceful undertaking shall we undertake next?”

The leader of the three thought for a moment.

“Not much we can do. Knock him out and we’ll take our leave.”

“Whoa! I’m not _stunning_ HARRY POTTER!” Liar put up his hands.

“You’re joking….”

“Norse could do it. She’d _lov_ e to do it. Wouldn’t you, Norse?”

The glowing blonde beside them nodded, as she punched her fist into her palm.

“You don’t plan on using a spell?” their leader murmured.

Norse began writing something into the air.

“I don’t care if it’s always been your dream to punch the Chosen One. And you want to punch _everybody_ , so I can’t take you seriously at all!”

Their leader sighed and ran her hand over her face before cupping her mouth. After a moment, she pointed her wand at Harry.

“I’ll at least spare you the pain of being stunned,” she said in a cold voice.

Liar leaned on her shoulder, joining in looking down at him.

“Nighty night~♪”

Norse also waved at Harry mutely.

“ _Imperio.”_

Harry heard their leader cast the Unforgivable Curse and felt his consciousness fade. He caught a glimpse of the Dark Mark tattoos they all bore, before a chilling sensation washed over him.

And then he was out, commanded to fall asleep.

.

.

_(The next day, at the Ministry of Magic)_

.

A young frizzle haired woman walked fast pass the cubicles lining the building floor. Clutched to her chest was a large book almost larger than her whole upper body. Despite the enormity of the tome, the woman moved as if accustom to such a thing.

When she reached her destination, the witch turned sharply and knocked on the door of a certain office.

“…Come in,” a low voice called.

She opened the door, entered, and stalked, almost outright angrily, to the man sitting at his desk. The witch dropped the tome she had been carrying on the table with a heavy thump. Piles of papers and binders did a short hop.

“I’ve been doing some research, Minister…”

“Of course, you have, Ms. Granger.”

“…and I have found something rather alarming in my findings.”

“This concerns the three fugitives Potter and Weasley ran into last night.”

Hermione stared at Kingsley Shacklebot for a moment.

“Yes.”

“…Go on.”

“As you know, there has been a long list of unexplained incidences surrounding the three in question.”

“There have? We’ve only recently become aware of their existence last night.”

……

“…Do you want to stand by that statement, Minister?” Hermione’s tone contained a subtle hint of warning and an underlying wrath in her words. After a pointed stare, she went on with her explanation. “Since 1717, the Ministry is notified of every instance witches or wizards perform the Unforgivable Curses. Including during the Wizarding Wars, when the use was legalized temporarily, the r _ecord_ of uses still exists. With the exception of the Imperius Curse, which casts are recorded, but effects are difficult to trace.”

“I know my Unforgivable Curses history, Ms. Granger.”

“ _And yet_ , there are eye witness sightings of the curses being performed _without_ setting off any of the Ministry’s monitoring charms.”

“I’ve read the report. Potter and Weasley witnessed the Killing Curse and were victims of the Imperius Curse themselves.”

“And no new entries have appeared in Ministry records.”

“Something worth investigating,” Kingsley commented.

“ _Apparently_ , this has happened before. Accounts of perpetrators matching similar descriptions to those Harry and Ron described. And when I checked against official records for their corresponding usage, I found nothing.”

“You believe these three have been using Unforgivable Curses for a while now.”

“ _Years,”_ she emphasized. “Possibly decades. Before Voldemort’s resurrection, before I started Hogwarts. All this time…They have been out there… Using Unforgivable Curses without detection—without repercussion.”

The Minister took in what Hermione said and nodded gravely. “I understand. We already have all our resources pooled towards catching these criminals. When we bring them to custody, we shall uncover their methods of subterfuge and prevent it from ever happening again. I will make sure of—”

“I don’t want to believe you condoned it.”

…

That simple sentence brought the world around them to a grinding halt.

Kingsley slowly began to speak. “……I’m sorry?”

“I don’t want to believe you supported this…!” Hermione’s voice quivered as tears welled in her eyes. “We fought together. You were there with us when we fought Voldemort. In the Order, at Hogwarts, helping Harry. We—!”

She stopped a moment to compose herself.

“I’m not naïve. Lives were lost. It was war,” Hermione spoke in a hushed voice.

“…”

“But now? There is no excuse for handing out death sentences. Not during times of peace or _between_ wars either.”

“Ms. Grange—“

Hermione opened the tome she had slammed onto the desk and turned to a page she bookmarked. The old parchment was mostly blank save for a few words.

“After meeting loads of dead ends in my research, I decided to try a new angle,” she continued. “Could there exist individuals who are actually _permitted_ use of the Unforgivable Curses, regardless of the circumstance or times?”

Hermione looked down at a list in the tome.

“Why, among the six names here, are yours, Albus Dumbledore’s, and Alastor Moody’s…?!”

“…”

Hermione laid a tired finger on two foreboding words written on the old parchment.

“Who are **_‘The Forgiven’_**?”

 


	2. Three Misfits

****   


_Previously on the Forgiven and Harry Potter: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley encountered three individuals bearing the Dark Mark and casting Unforgivable Curses without detection or consequence. Hermione Granger confronted the Minister of Magic: Kingsley Shacklebot, about a hypothesis she developed and a tome she found. The book listed an organization’s membership that included him, Albus Dumbledore, and Alastor Moody. A group is revealed to be possibly permitted use of the Unforgivable Curses….’The Forgiven’._

_._

_._

“Who are ‘The Forgiven’?”

Hermione choked back her feelings and asked the Minister with an emotionless, almost tired, tone.

For a few tense seconds, the two stared at each other before Kingsley sighed heavily.

“If I tell you, you are not allowed to breathe a single word of this to anyone. Not even Weasley or Potter.”

“I will make no such promise.”

“….So be it. Then we have nothing further to discuss.”

“Wha—! I’ll find any evidence out there, no matter how small! I’m good at that. Found this after all. Someone will know something.”

“I assure you—whatever you may find, whether you manage to capture those three or not—none of it will ever trace back to me.” He glanced at the book and added, “And I doubt my name in an old tome would lend credence to anything.”

“From what Harry and Ron described, I doubt they would be so loyal, if arrested. We can extract their memories if it comes to that.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Ms. Granger. Those three…” Kingsley paused at a thought. “…Those three would willingly _die_ before being captured. Even if they weren’t bound by a number of Fidelius Charms and Unbreakable Vows.”

“Unbreakable…Vows…?”

“A bright young witch like yourself, you must be curious. Curiouser than most and growing more so by the second.”

“…”

“Promise to me you will reveal nothing of what is spoken of in this office, and I will reveal all.”

Hermione’s teeth grinded against each other in thought. Her mind was working to come up with a smart reply, but her interests conflicted. “The Forgiven”, Kingsley’s, Dumbledore’s, and Mad Eye’s membership in some ominous group, permitted use of Unforgiveable Curses. There were so many questions filling her thoughts, she thought her mind would burst.

“Fine. I promise,” she finally answered.

The Minister chuckled.

“You are a terrible liar, Ms. Granger. Though…I think once you’ve heard what I have to say, you will no doubt keep your promise.”

Kingsley looked down at the page the tome was opened to. There, it was written:

.

**_ The Masters Forgivers _ **

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Alastor Moody_

_Kingsley Shacklebot_

.

And below that, he ran a hand over three more names listed there. Each syllable he read silently, like some sacred prayer very dear to him.

.

**_ The Forgiven _ **

_Norse_

_Liar_

_Gri—_

.

He paused at the last name. It brought sorrowful memories just mouthing it through his lips. A cold pinch spread through his heart.

Kingsley looked at the waiting Hermione and sighed.

“Perhaps it would be best to start the story with the individual named—“

.

.

“Grimm,” Liar tapped her shoulder.

“…What?”

Sneaking into a Quidditch supply shop and standing before a display case were Grimm and Liar.

“I dunno. You looked a bit out of it.”

“I’m fine. Just thinking about Kingsley.”

“Hm. You think he’ll come for us?”

Grimm frowned.

“Of course, he will. Even if it eats him up inside, he’ll do it. He’s the Minister now.”

“Ah, yes. Our great and magical overlord, ruler of all the wizarding realm. Long way, he’s come. And look at us. Breaking into a broom shop. I wonder if he’s ever had to break into anything in his life.”

They both heard Norse rumbling through some brooms in the stockroom. The two ignored her and carried on with their conversation.

“Such blatant bitterness doesn’t suit you, Liar. Thought you’d be happy for him.”

“I am! I mean…” _*Sigh*_ “If anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s him _._ He was only dragged into all this by Albus and Mad Eye.

Grimm stared silently at the Thunderbolt VII model broom resting in the glass before her. A sarcastic smile slowly broke.

“Yeah. _He’s_ had it hard alright.”

“Always been too soft for our gruesome sort of business.”

“What do you think of this broom?”

“Thunderbolts? Like riding a twig. A wicked _fast_ twig, but no question. It’s gotta be a Firebolt, boss. Thunderbolts can’t compare.”

They both heard wooden crates being shattered. As they turned, they saw bright yellow words floating towards them.

**Found them.**

A few seconds later, Norse appeared from the backroom clutching three brooms in her hands. All of them Firebolt Supreme Models.

“ _Sweet…”_ Liar awed.

The great glowing witch tossed one to them each. Grimm went to the counter and dropped a heavy sack of Galleons onto the register. The total would pay for the brooms plus damages to the store.

After examining their newly acquired wares and removing the security charms, Liar gave a checking glance to his two accomplices. Seeing as they were both ready, he put an arm on each their shoulders and Apparated them out.

All three felt a familiar vacuum sensation as they slipped into the void, and then out of it within seconds. When they cleared the teleportation, they found themselves freefalling through the night sky. Far from panicking, they seemed to take the sudden drop in comfort.

Liar had a habit of Apparating them midair. Grimm remembered when the stunt used to bother her, but now, she took solace in it. As she fell through the clouds, through the endless dark blue, she felt oblivion. Like the matters that weighed so heavy on her mind were worlds away. She opened her eyes and saw her comrades already finished skydiving, and were riding on their brooms.

The whole sequence was a countermeasure against being followed. Ministry charms tracked Apparations so they needed to create as much distance as possible from their entry point.

Grimm felt reality reel back and mounted her broom. The witch rode the momentum down and swooped up, like a swallow in flight. She joined her comrades, and together, they made their way to one of their safe houses.

.

****************************

.

The three flew overhead some cities before reaching the vast ocean. Although there was nothing but water beneath them, they dove towards one spot in particular.

“His nose was nicked, his head was thick, let all be known, that Voldy’s a prick.” Liar recited the poem password.

A small island faded into existence for the party coming towards it. On the island, stood a four-story mansion that could have passed for a small castle. The estate once belonged to an aristocratic wizarding family. Its previous head had joined the Death Eaters about five years back and ran into the group, which was Grimm, Liar, and Norse. Shortly after their meeting, the said individual was…..relieved of his need of it.

The three flew straight to one of the windows and kicked it open. They soared through the halls and into to the dining room where they finally dismounted their brooms, and dropped lazily into the dining room chairs.

Liar rested his feet on the eating table and began rocking back and forth. Grimm, after a small break, went to the kitchen counter and began putting together a sandwich for herself.

“Oh! Can you make me one too?” Liar piped up.

“What? ‘Make you a sandwich’?”

“……You know, I meant that in the most non-misogynistic manner as possible, and I would never say anything that would endanger my life so.”

“But of course.”

Grimm turned to him, pointed her wand, and zapped him with a white light. When the flash dissipated, a turkey sandwich was sitting where Liar’s feet were.

Grimm chuckled, while Norse laughed mutely.

“Haha, hilarious,” the sandwich said, flapping slices of bread as he spoke.

Grimm finished preparing their meals and set a plate for each of her companions. It was a funny sight to see Liar eating the sandwich without changing back to his human form. As Grimm watched, words from Norse began floating through the air as she took her bites.

**Is that some sort of cannibalism?**

“Looks that way. Transfiguration spell felt a bit off…” Grimm eyed the wand in her hand.”…Apple, Unicorn, ten inches—no wonder. You should have handed me a better one back there.”

Norse shrugged her shoulders, stood up, and unfurled a part of her cloak. Wands poured out and clattered loudly onto the table. There had to be at least thirty of them.

“Geez, Norse! How many poor saps had the unfortunate circumstance of meeting you?” Liar bellowed.

The glowingly blonde witch smiled as if every wand was a trophy from a defeated foe…which was an accurate assumption.

Grimm began sifting through the instruments for a better replacement. Inwardly, she prayed to find one to her preference, since quality in spells and comfortability differed greatly with material. There was also the affinity with personality to consider. After going through half of them, the witch started to feel discouraged.

Just when she was losing hope, Norse quietly dangled a wand in front of her face.

Grimm smiled and took it, turning it over in her hands.

“Ebony, Thirteen inches, Unbending…Phoenix Core. Yes! Oh, I love you, Norse,” the witch said as she cupped her friend’s face, and ruffled it. “You ready?”

Norse nodded.

After taking one more bite of her sandwich, she took one of the wands on the table and placed it between her teeth. The woman braced herself as Grimm blasted her across the room. When the blonde witch got up, she spat out the wand she was biting on, walked over to the table, and continued eating as if nothing had ever happened.

“I shall never tire of watching that. In any case, wand allegiance won. Congratulations. Now, if you would be so kind?” the talking sandwich requested.

Grimm turned to Liar and transfigured him back to human form.

As the three ate their sandwiches and conjured more, their leader looked at the other two with a warm gaze.

_When was it that I started getting used to them? To all of this…_

The blue-dyed hair witch sighed as she pushed another morsel into her mouth.

_Three misfits._

_Witches and wizards permitted use the Unforgivable Curses._

_Recruited and taught to be the cloak and dagger for the good of the world._

_‘The Forgiven’…_

She smiled at the thief and warrior, who continued devouring their food next to her.

_What a load of bull…_

Grimm’s mind wandered back to when it all began, to the circumstances that led to this, to the idea shared between two wizards, to the moment she was first recruited. She wondered about what ifs, but banished the thought almost immediately.

No matter what happened, it happened. All she could do was live in the now and enjoy the subtle victories her current life afforded her. Breaking into broom shops, screwing over the crooked, exercising freedoms outside the law, enjoying certain vigilante joys; playing judge, jury, and sometimes, executioner. And, of course, sharing the good and bad times with the two people she considered closer than family.

“Indigestion, boss? Your face looks a tad gross,” Liar commented.

**She is thinking of the foes she fell this night. Grimm must take pride in defeating Harry Potter, who slayed Voldemort. I feel the same.**

“I’m rather sure that isn’t the case.”

Norse made a crude doodle of Grimm posing on top of an unconscious Harry Potter in the air.

“Pfffttt—HAHAHA! What is that, Norse?! It’s terrible!!”

Along with Liar, Grimm couldn’t help, but laugh at the crappy drawing as well.

Endless chortling echoed through the deserted house. All three lost to an uncontrollable fit.

The hurt they had incurred over the years, forgotten.

The dark future that lay ahead of them, they faced with laughter and smiles on their faces.

.

.

_(Many Years Ago. The night Voldemort fell and Harry Potter was left to his Aunt and Uncle’s.)_

_._

Dumbledore Apparated to the entrance of the Hog’s Head Inn. He turned up the hood of his cloak to hide his face before entering.

Once inside, he was greeted with the loud celebrations of Voldemort’s death. The fall of the Dark Lord would give many the drunkest night of their lives. Chairs were tipped over, men and women shouted and danced on tables. Butterbeer and fire whiskey ran like waterfalls. Everyone in the tavern was thoroughly inebriated, or at least, beside themselves with glee.

All save for two.

Dumbledore’s mouth curled into a small grin at how easy it was to maneuver without catching anyone’s notice.

The tall wizard made his way to one particular, dark corner of the establishment. At a single table, a lone patron drank his whiskey with a watchful eye. A literal watchful eye that whirred about, reacting to every little movement of every person in the tavern. It only rested when Dumbledore pulled a seat to join the man.

“Look at them, Albus. If a Death Eater rolled into the place right now, they’d curse everyone here dead with no problem at all,” Moody grumbled.

“It is a time of celebration, Alastor. They’ve little news to hear that wasn’t filled with death or tragedy.”

“Peh! Still a bunch of ruddy fools!”

“Hm…”

Dumbledore waited patiently as Moody growled about more somethings. His eyes twinkled as he gently surveyed the jovial people. But as soon as he felt his friend’s stare on him, signaling that he was ready for real talks, the glimmer in his eyes faded; replaced by empty pools of darkness likened to an endless abyss.

“It’s not over, Albus. They’re still out there. _He_ is too, I’d wager. Only a matter of time before we have another War on our hands.”

Dumbledore sighed.

“Agreed,” he nodded solemnly.

“And we won’t be so lucky next time. Unless you know how the adolescent Potter beat him.”

“I have my theories, but you are right in thinking we will not be so fortunate again.”

“There’s plenty of Death Eaters in the wind. They’ll come after the boy—after the Muggles, Muggleborns, even our people in the Order.”

“Which is why you wish for me to rescind its disbandment.”

“Our people need to be out there, Albus. The Ministry and the Aurors won’t be enough.”

“And neither will the Order. We need something _new_. A small group of gifted individuals who can move quickly and quietly to put out the small fires before they can catch.”

“Small?”

“A group of three should suffice. No more, no less.”

“A bit _too_ small, don’t you think?”

“The larger the group, the less mobility, secrecy, and so forth. Also…” Dumbledore revealed a book from his cloak, and placed it before Moody.”…I would expose as little of those as possible to the immoralities we are about to commit.”

Mad Eye went over the scriptures of the old text as quick as he could. His artificial eyeball whined and spun over the lines of faded ink. The words were coded, but translated in a flash. Each sentence deciphered made Moody’s pupils contract tighter and tighter until they were tiny specks.

When he finished reading, he looked up at the wizard with half-moon glasses across from him. The aged Auror probed his companion for any trace of misgivings. As per usual, he found none.

Dumbledore had long steeled his nerves for the actions he would soon take, and Moody was deciding if he would do the same.

After contemplating it, he spoke. A dark weight following his voice.

“ _’The Forgiven’_. If you and I are to be their handlers, we still require a third.”

“I believe Kingsley will do.”

“....Agreed.”

“We will approach him tomorrow.”

“And these chosen three agents. Where will we find them? In the Order?”

“No. We will look to the younger generation. Faster, smarter, and far more malleable.”

“Children.”

“The ones chosen…Their age will have no reflection on their true bearing.”

“From the generation who experienced the Dark Lord’s atrocities first hand? I’m sure we won’t be short of candidates. Kids who’ve grown far too fast for their own good. It’s the morality of it I’m worried about. Mind you, I’m not one to shy away from the blood and dirt…But they’ll have been through enough already.”

“They must also be expendable. Extend a hand to those who seem to be at the end of their lives prematurely.”

“…”

Moody felt a bad taste in his mouth. Still, he knew Dumbledore was likely right. The wizarding world needed its watchers. A vicious guard dog that would sink their fangs into an intruder while they were on the front lawn, before they made it into the house. And they needed to be a force that would tip the odds in their side’s favor whenever Voldemort should return.

“…Do you have some names in mind?” Mad Eye asked bitterly.

“Norse has already accepted.”

“The one with the vow of silence?”

“The very same.”

“I see.”

 _As far as ideal candidates went, Norse is a perfect fit_ , Moody thought.

“Is there any name you have to offer?”

Mad Eye grimaced at Dumbledore’s question, and knocked back what was left of his whiskey. A little disgusted with how quickly he came up with the name. Part of him believed that his friend already knew who he was thinking of…

A young girl who seemed one moment away from forfeiting her life.

_A witch named Grimma…_

 


	3. A Witch Named Grimm

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: Kingsley Shacklebot began his explanation of the secret group: The **Forgiven** , to Hermione. It was revealed the original founders were Albus Dumbledore and Alastor “Mad Eye” Moody. So far, Kingsley had been recruited as a handler while Norse had been recruited as an agent._

_._

_._

I remember the turning point.

The day it all went wrong and my world took a nosedive into darker waters.

It was almost a year since Voldemort fell.

I was an Auror only thirteen years old.

The schools had an accelerated education program for those who wanted to join the fight against the Death Eaters as soon as possible. Even after the fall of the Dark Lord, I stayed on the fast paced curriculum and graduated early. When I left Hogwarts, I was picked up by the legendary Alastor “Mad Eye” Moody. At the same time, I started working as an Auror for the Ministry.

And then that day happened…

All the bad luck in the world align.

The day started off so normal. Had a bit of breakfast with Tonks, tutoring with Mad Eye, shuffled around some tedious paper when I got to work—and then we got the call.

Death Eaters killing Muggles. A lot of them. On the main roads and in broad daylight.

They shot up the Dark Sign for an exclamation point.

Maybe they wanted to send a message, maybe they wanted to demonstrate something to You-Know-Who. It hadn’t been too long since he disappeared. Who knows what their reasons were, but if they wanted attention, they got it.

All the Aurors on hand were deployed. Even ones on days off got the call.

It was the biggest Death Eater incident since the war ended.

Once the Ministry started arriving on the scene, the Death Eaters broke off into little groups. They moved through the streets like skittering cockroaches. I followed mine to a heavily populated bridge.

There were three of them and five of us, and all along the walkway were innocent bystanders; muggles particularly. They didn’t understand what was going on or pay us much thought. Ministry charms are a little too convenient that way. If they had run, things would’ve turned out a lot differently.

The Death Eaters didn’t have to say anything. About twenty feet separated us. Any Muggles around were hostages for them. The stalemate lasted forever.

I was banking on us having reinforcements soon. Maybe have Ministry workers stop the Muggles from crossing bridge, and then we would just duel it out. Wouldn’t have fell short. Months after he-who-must-not-be-named died, things were still pretty hectic. So despite being a newbie Auror, I had my share of hard fights already.

But it never got to that…

One of the Death Eaters—I saw something in his sneer. That reckless kind of madness that made people do stupid things— _cruel things_.

His comrades seemed content to keeping the Muggle passersby hostages, but not him. No, he wanted blood, and I knew that look. I’d seen witches and wizards with the same red in their eyes when they executed Muggles, Muggleborns, and half-bloods on their knees. He was either going to blow the whole bridge or catch as many people as he could with one big spell.

For a second, an odd thought came to mind.

I wondered if my mother was on that bridge. I’d tried so hard not to think about her for so long. Felt like I hadn’t spared her a thought for months, but there it was. A voice in the back of my head.

It didn’t factor into my decision.

I’m sure I would have done what I did either way.

The Death Eater’s hand went up, and I couldn’t chance any half measures. I lifted my wand and aimed center mass.

I didn’t even have to think about it.

The words kind of just… _fell_ from my lips. Like it was the coldest, most rational thing to do.

“ _Avada Kedavra.”_

Freezing sensations licked at my fingertips. I saw green light flare from my wand, blighting everyone’s vision except my own. The Death Eater’s pupils dilate for a moment before…

Nothing.

He fell back like a timbering tree, body stiff with rigor mortis.  When he hit the floor, his limbs relaxed and his arms flopped to the sides.

It was eerie but…was it so wrong I felt nothing from it?

The man was going to kill _at least_ twenty people. It was a for sure thing. Fact, not assumption. I saw the cues, read the body language. Mad Eye’s teachings confirmed the same thing my intuition shouted.

And then the remaining two Death Eaters looked at their comrade’s dead body. They reacted, they were in a panic. Their wands went up and I saw their mouths forming the words…

But I was faster.

_“Avada Kedavra.”_

I targeted the one closest to finishing his spell.

_Avada Kedavra._

I didn’t even say the second one. Was able to perform it nonverbally. Goes down to the smallest fractions of a second when you don’t have to incant it out loud.

They both fall and for a sliver of a moment, I thought I almost felt bad…

But it was just my imagination. I was _supposed_ to feel bad about it. That’s what my colleagues and the Ministry practically told me when they held my trial.

To regret my actions, that I should have found another way.

Maybe they wanted to crack down hard on crimes, especially when the Unforgivable Curses were concerned. The Ministry got a lot of bad publicity for legalizing it during the War. Could be they were suppressed by the Dark Lord for so long they wanted to do some stretching.

Barty Crouch was gunning for the Minister chair. Ironic considering, he was originally the one who pushed for lethal force use in the first place. Maybe he was trying to save his image.

Whatever the reason, they gave me two options: life sentence in Azkaban or the death penalty.

You’d think it was illegal to put an axe to a teenager’s neck or serve them with eternal imprisonment, but I became a certified adult once I signed up to be an Auror.

Loopholes. They were the bane _and_ the foundation of my existence. This one wouldn’t be the last one exploited in my life either.

The night before I was to announce my decision to the Ministry, I got a little visit from Mad Eye…

.

.

I was brought to a visitation room, my wrists chained to a table. Even though I couldn’t see them, I could feel the Dementors waiting outside the doors. Through solid concrete, they hounded me.

Everyone was right. Azkaban _did_ suck.

The doors on the opposite side of the room opened and Moody came in. Eye whirring like crazy, he sat down on the other end of the table.

“Grimma.”

“Mad Eye.”

“Well, how are you faring?”

“What do you think? Dark hooded bastards trying to suck up all my bright, sparkling memories out of me. You know—cause I have _soooo many_ of them.”

Moody cracked a smile.

“I see. At least you’ve still got your mouth and your sarcastic sense of humor.”

“Thank goodness they can’t take that away.”

“Heh! I’ll make sure to tell everyone you’re doing alright then.”

“Yeah…” I hesitate for a second. “How’s Tonks?”

“Devastated. You can imagine.”

That was the worst part in all this. I didn’t care much about being imprisoned. Cared even less about killing three Death Eaters, who would have otherwise slaughtered a herd of innocent people.

No, it was Tonks that broke my heart.

I tried not to think about it.

“So what are you here for? Can’t imagine you doing this just to check up on me. Must’ve pulled a lot of strings.”

Mad Eye eyed me like he was studying a book. Gave me the same stare down he did when he first took me on as an apprentice. Also did it the first time we met and slapped me across the face afterwards. Probing for weakness, fear, and, I think— _potential_.

“Do you regret it? Killing those Death Eaters?” he asked in that gruff voice of his.

“You know I don’t.”

“What made you do it?”

“They were going to slaughter those Muggles and the Aurors with me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do! That’s what I’ve seen them do! It’s what you’ve _taught_ me to do! I saw their next move as clear as day and I stopped it. Are you going to tell me I was wrong?!”

“You were.”

Those simple words made my world freeze over. For a brief moment, my determination waned and doubt entered.

…

_……But only for a moment._

“Then you can piss off.”

“…”

He glared at me and I glared back. Not a word spoken between us for a long breath.

“……This is a test, isn’t it?”

“Maybe I taught you _too well_ ,” he grinned.

“Should consider teaching at Hogwarts. ‘Professor Mad Eye Moody’, that would be something. Teach those kids some _real_ defense against the dark arts.”

“Har har.”

The mood lightened.

“Then you don’t believe I was wrong?”

“No, I doubt you’d make such a foolish mistake. I reckon those Death Eaters had it coming.”

“You would have done the same, I think.”

“Without question. You did well, and I don’t say that a lot.”

“So why the test?”

He paused and looked down. He seemed hesitant; ashamed even. I’d never seen him like that. It actually sent a small shiver down my spine.

Mad Eye looked like he was making the toughest decision of his life.

To speak or not to speak.

I wondered what was so bad to make him act like that.

“……If you’re willing, when they ask you to name your punishment tomorrow—you’ll ask for the death penalty.”

.

.

Moody told me about the group he, Dumbledore, and Kingsley were putting together. The next day I told the Ministry I sought the death penalty.

They were all surprised…

If you don’t expect me to consider the option, then don’t offer it, you bloody idiots.

Didn’t have many people to say goodbye to. I rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. Didn’t help that I was bitter and angry by default. Taking a law enforcement job “overly serious” in a time of peace. I had reasons for my zeal, but everyone else just saw someone _looking_ for a fight.

Either way, not too many friends in the work place.

….

Tonks came. She cried. Brought her parents too. Don’t really want to talk about that.

Charlie Weasley visited with his family. Adorable loving red heads. They were good people.

The Longbottoms dropped in. Looked after me a lot in the office. Nicest couple in the world.

Professor McGonagall came as a surprise. She was always my favorite teacher; despite all the headaches I gave her. How did the saying go? The worse the student, the more lovable they were? I can’t help but think if the two of us were born around the same age, we would have been the best of friends.

And lastly were the two arbiters of fate. Kingsley Shacklebot and Albus Dumbledore. Kingsley’s a decent man in my book, but I always thought something was off about the Headmaster of Hogwarts. I didn’t dislike him, but instinct had taught me to keep a hard steer clear of him, even while I was still in school.

And now I was putting my life in his hands.

Fate sure is a satiric bitch.

…

They led me out of my cell and ported me to the Ministry to be executed.

I was to be given one final meal before they went and offed me. I remember eating the best feast I ever had in my life. Being hungry and having Dementors drain the soul out of you really added to your appetite. Something must have been in the Butterbeer because I fell asleep shortly after.

When I came to, I was in one of Moody’s safe flats. An underground bunker as large as a sports stadium.

I had trained here often.

It’s sound proof, detection proof, and durable as hell. Has a high enough ceiling you swear it had its own sky.

Stayed indoors for three grueling months…

Nothing but training, running the obstacle courses, and a few sparse visits from Moody, Kingsley, and Dumbledore.

It wasn’t so bad.

Put on some muscle, honed my skills. I needed to be better than I was. Stronger for what would come next.

Finally, the day came when Moody gave the all clear to go outside for an hour. Gave me a crappy broom to fly. Enjoyed the brief freedom until reality hit me.

Everyone I knew, everyone who knew me…

……All their memories were now erased.

.

.

The only ones on the planet who knew I existed were Moody, Kingsley, and Dumbledore. To ensure I could work in absolute secrecy, the three of them Obliviated my existence from everyone’s memories. Besides them, only two more would know who I was.

I remember when I first met them.

Norse and Liar.

Norse was a hulking, glowing, heaven and hell be damned witch even back then. She was a year older than me, and had been an Auror too. I never worked with her, but I remember hearing the stories. Rushing into hordes of dark wizards and creatures without a shred of care. Countless infractions of insubordination. The only one she answered to was Dumbledore.

According to her family traditions, Norse took a vow of silence when she was young. Something about how actions spoke louder than words, and her family fulfilled that to its most literal sense. Took to writing floating words with her wand or using sign language to communicate.

Norse was to be our team’s heavy hitter. The big gun for our fights. Did I mention one of her traditions is proving her worthiness of a seat in Valhalla? According to her, she was to display battle prowess impressive enough to earn recognition from her gods. Then, when she died, she would be welcomed into the halls of Valhalla where the greatest warriors drank, partied, and beat the ever living shite out of each other for all eternity.

Didn’t sound half bad to be honest.

Norse was a Viking with a death wish. A perfect member for our little group. Gifted, morally skewed, and expendable.

_Then there was Liar._

He was a gangly looking twit. A year younger than me and bearing a Dark Mark on his forearm. I’d make some quip about how unethical it was to recruit children for a homicidal army, and then I remember our side was doing the same. In any case, he wasn’t a fighter, much less someone willing to sacrifice himself for a noble cause.

Liar was to be our group’s spy as well as our utility man. Talented in sneaking, Apparating, stealing, memory charms, and all around mind spells. He was a skilled illusionist and had a brain for information gathering before we even started Forgiven training. If I had one word to describe him, it would be “crafty”. Didn’t think twice about telling him what I thought either.

“’Liar’? The name doesn’t inspire much confidence.”

“Nor should it, Scowly Lord Anger Face…. And what would our fearless leader’s name be, so I may address you without endangering my life?”

 _Grimma_ , surfaced in my head, but not on my lips.

No.

She died already. Or practically never existed.

“Grimm. My name is Grimm.”

And that’s what I signed into the book:

.

** The Forgiven **

_Norse_

_Liar_

_Grimm_

 

 

 


	4. We All Have Our Scars

 

** Chapter 4 – We All Have Our Scars **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: Everyone’s memories related to Grimma have been erased. The only ones who know of her existence are Dumbledore, Moody, Kingsley, and her two new teammates. Upon joining the secret group, Grimma forgoes her old name and dons her new identity as Grimm._

_._

_._

_“Confringo Maxima!”_

_Defidio! Wingardium Leviosa!_

Kingsley targeted Grimm with a powerful blasting spell, while the witch used nonverbal incantations to gouge out a slab of concrete floor. She then, levitated the cinder block up to receive her opponent’s attack.

Rubble flew and dust filled the air. Only half the cinder block remained after the spell collided.

_Ventus!_

Grimm conjured a strong gale to push the concrete remnants towards Kingsley.

_“Reducto!”_

Before the block could reach him, it was disintegrated into harmless dust.

 _Avada Kedavra_.

A slash of eerie, green light cut near Kingsley and faded. It was only known to the two combatants that the Killing Curse missed the man’s head by a few inches.

After composing himself from his near death experience, Kingsley spoke.

“You have a real sense for duels.”

“I don’t believe you’ll find many in my generation who aren’t.”

“Well…”

They both turned to the other sparring pair beside them.

_“OH SHI—!”_

Liar rushed through his unincanted spells, trying to block an oncoming curse with a cinder block like Grimm had done before. Unfortunately, his panicked spellwork created a concrete slab smaller than it needed to be.

Norse, his sparring partner, silently casted a Killing Curse at Liar’s defenses. The spear of energy penetrated through the rock and almost struck Liar dead. The young wizard tripped over backwards and looked at the “referee” to stop the fight.

Moody rolled his real eye and threw his hand up.

“Stop,” he growled.

“Tis only practice, Norse! Would you mind taking it a little easier?!” Liar yelled.

The glowing witch only shrugged as Moody walked over to him.

“Do you think your enemies are going to take it easy on you when they’re out for your blood?! The ONLY way to deflect the Killing Curse is with an inanimate object! And depending on how powerful the caster, you need an object just as strong to receive it!”

“Short of He-who-must-not-be-named, I doubt anyone could cast a more potent curse than Norse. Summoning something smaller should do well enough against most! I don’t have to go through that whole spell sequence just to bring up a rock!”

“No excuses! Someone could Imperius her and kill you then, couldn’t they?! Or how about when you run into the Dark Lord himself?!”

“No. That’s a bit of a stretch, Mad Eye.”

“Be prepared for anything! Constant Vigilance! AGAIN!”

Liar sighed, as he reluctantly got up to resume training.

At the same time, Grimm turned to Kingsley.

“You should be using the Killing Curse too.”

“The Ministry only puts up with _Moody_ casting the Unforgivables. If I were detected using one, they would launch a full investigation. Confringo produces similar enough effect.”

“But not mentally.”

Kingsley stared at Grimm, not knowing how seriously to take her.

“Nothing simulates a _real_ life threatening spell.”

“Grimm…”

“You need to stop taking it easy on me. I can tell you’re holding back. I appreciate the gesture, really I do. You’re probably the most decent one in all this…” She gave him a vicious look. “—But you need to stop screwing around and start trying to kill me.”

Kingsley paused and then solemnly nodded.

As they walked to their respective dueling positions once again, Liar called over.

“Perhaps we should switch partners! If you’re looking for someone to try and kill you, Norse has been staring at my head like she’s trying out ten different ways to separate it from my body!”

 **Fifteen,** the words floated across.

“Eeeeeeee…”

“Probably won’t come at me the same. I’m not a Death Eater, after all,” Grimm shouted back.

Liar smiled.

“That would be _former_ Death Eater.”

“Still have your tattoo.”

“Unlike some poorly blue-dyed streaks that wear off with time, this ink is permanent.”

_Avada Kedavra!!_

The emerald curse from Grimm’s wand surged towards Liar.

When the stream was about to pass near his feet, the boy slipped into thin air, and Reapparated farther away, while the attack chiseled a hole in the ground.

“DON’T talk about my hair,” Grimm said with a fury.

“Yeesh. Struck a nerve, did I?”

“ _Liar.”_ Moody’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Don’t talk about her hair.” He turned to Grimm. “And you! Don’t go using the Killing Curse so recklessly, even if you were missing on purpose.”

“Served a good point, didn’t it? He doesn’t need to practice defense if he can Disapparate in the blink of an eye. Seems more his style.”

“You think that makes up for it?” Moody pressed.

“No. Just an evaluation of my team.”

“Stop. That attitude is going to lead you to a foolish mistake one day. Stow it. Now!”

“……Yes, sir,” Grimm answered firmly.

Moody had recounted all kinds of stories to her about how some of the greatest witches and wizards of their time had done themselves in on idiotic mistakes. Tripping over themselves in critical moments, all because of a big head. “Constant vigilance!” he’d end the morale of the tale with.

Though Grimm could be headstrong at times, she never liked disappointing Moody. The young witch always heeded his advice when it came down to it. Her mentor had taken care of her beyond the relationship of student and teacher. He was her father in her time of need and Grimm would never turn her back on that, always holding him in the highest respect.

“All of you get back to work! Seems I need to greet our guest.”

Moody’s Magic Eye jittered towards the ceiling. He then walked over to an empty soda can in the middle of the underground stadium and ported upon contact.

.

.

The portkey warped Moody into his house above the bunker.

It was a humble little building. The rooms were cluttered with all manner of devices and books. Furniture was old and dusty. It served its use as a front for the underground base and nothing more.

The man limped into the living room to find a tall wizard looking over some old photos on the shelf.

“How goes their progress?” Dumbledore asked.

“Fine, for the most part. Norse has mastered the Killing Curse. Liar’s proficient at the Imperius. Grimm is talented in both.”

“And the Cruciatus?”

“Nothing. They’re getting under each other’s skin, but not enough to make them want to torture each other—even for practice. Doubt they can put it on a stranger.”

“I see.”

“Might be a good thing they aren’t able to perform it. That one takes a toll on the caster as well as its victims. Requires a touch of sadism I’d rather they didn’t develop.”

“It will be useful for their interrogation work.”

“If Liar’s talent in Legilimency keeps developing the way it is, it’ll make a good enough replacement.”

Dumbledore neither concurred nor opposed the statement, but merely nodded in acknowledgment.

“So? What brought you here? Must be something to pull you from the school on a non-holiday.”

“Hm. I believe time has come to put them into the field. Circumstances have arisen, presenting an opportunity for them to test their skills.”

Moody grunted and pondered it for a moment.

“I’ll get ’em ready.”

.

.

In the training facility’s locker room, Grimm was drying her hair. When she pulled the towel away, some of her blue dye had stained the cloth.

The witch snatched at the strands and looked in one of the mirrors hanging from the wall. In her reflection, she saw the color was indeed fading. The blue was hardly noticeable now.

She sighed and pointed her wand at select strands.

_Careful… Careful…_

“ _Crinus Muto.”_

White light flashed and her whole head colored bright turquoise.

_Damn it! I should have asked her how to do it!_

“HAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Grimm heard roaring laughter behind her and saw that it was Liar. Beside him was Norse, who was also cackling silently. She threw them both a sharp glare, which stopped Liar, but not Norse.

The blonde witch gave her a challenging look, as if daring the other to make a move.

Liar quickly put himself between the two girls, holding his hands up.

“Now, now, let’s not fight. We are to function as a unit, correct? Grimm. I apologize for my previous behavior commenting on your hair, as well as my current behavior of laughing at it.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Hmph.”

“Allow me to assist you. Enchanting appearances requires a more…delicate hand,” Liar offered.

“You expect me to trust you?”

The edge of Liar’s mouth pulled up slightly.

“Even if I did possess a prankster’s intent, would I be able to change your hair into something worse than it is now?”

“……Point made. Get on with it, then.”

Liar walked behind Grimm and, like a barber, directed her face forward. The boy took out his wand and tapped her head.

_“Colovaria.”_

The witch’s hair instantly restored to its original jet black color.

Liar rested his wand on his ear and a hand to his chin, as he began imagining how to proceed with the next step. It was an exaggerated imitation of a barber that got a few smiles from Norse, but a stern look from Grimm.

“Just do it like it was before.”

“What? Come now, I can style it much better than how it was.”

“I’m _partial_ to how it was.”

The emphasis contained a hint of warning. Liar, remembering what happened earlier, decided not to press the matter.

“Very well, very well. I will try replicating it to the best of my abilities.”

Liar held his wand again and touched the tip to some choice strands.

_“Crinus…Muto.”_

A small speck of light glowed from the wand’s tip. The black strands it touched turned into dark, night blue. Liar traced his wand from the root of the hair to the end. When he finished with one streak, he repeated the process on another.

After several strokes, the boy stuck his wand in his mouth and played with the witch’s hair. He proclaimed the job done, took a hand mirror, and showed Grimm the various angles to check if it was to her liking.

She couldn’t help but admire the good work he did. The witch actually cared very little about it appearance-wise; so long as it was decent. The hair style served more as vestige rather than beauty, but she was still pleasantly surprised with the results.

“Well? Does the do suit the young lady?” Liar posed playfully.

“It does. Thank you, Liar.”

The young wizard was taken a bit back by the straightforward gratitude. He broke into a grin after recovering and started tying up her hair into its usual pony tail.

“When it wears off, allow me to fix it up again.”

“I might take you up on that.”

As the atmosphere grew warmer, something chilling invaded its presence.

Grimm eyed Liar’s forearm that bore the Dark Mark. It seemed Norse had taken renotice of it as well. The boy wizard felt their stares and shrugged with a bitter smile.

Despite the stagnant air, Grimm wanted to keep communications open.

“What made you become a Death Eater? How were you chosen for the Forgiven? I think if you told us your circumstances, we wouldn’t be so—“

“You want to tell us why you go bat shite crazy about your hair?” Liar asked with an empty smile.

“Hey.”

“Same thing, right? It’s a sore subject; some story behind it, I imagine. We all have our scars, so I believe it would be more prudent to just leave matters be.”

Grimm stared at Liar for a moment.

“Alright. Fair enough.”

“Glad we could come to an agreement.”

A quiet second passed between them.

“…Sorry,” Grimm said after a time.

“……I am too. I started the whole mess, didn’t I?”

In the silence of the heavy atmosphere, the two heard a loud banging on one of the lockers. They turned to see Norse having a fit, as she found the whole thing highly entertaining. She took her wand and began writing in scratchy words,

**Look at you lot. Bonding and squabbling like a couple of crows! So small and petty. Arguing about tattoos and hair like foolish children.**

“So scribbles the giant with childish handwriting.” Liar crossed his arms. “You’d think a big brain would accompany that big head of yours, but no. Just more blazing, mustard hair than anything.”

**Hmph! I remain unfazed by your insults. My stature and hair are the proud signs of my heritage. The blood of the great Thor courses in my heart and through my veins.**

Liar and Grimm shared a look.

“”Thor?”” they both asked.

“Like… _the_ Thor?” Grimm asked for clarification.

**Yes, Thor. The most powerful mage to ever walk the earth. Master of the skies and land, who wielded lightning sorcery that could tear the world asunder!**

“Oh…So, not the god one: the hero of myth, who wielded the hammer Mjolnir,” Liar commented.

**Mjolnir is the name of my ancestor’s legendary wand.**

Grimm tilted her head. “It could be the same person. Many famous witches and wizards have been misinterpreted as gods or even creatures over time.”

“Ah!” Liar snapped his fingers. “Like Medusa. Muggles always make her out to be some snake haired monster, but she was just a mad snake conjurer. Think she has descendants too.”

“Still, now it explains Norse’s whole…Viking thing. Not to mention her name.”

**Hmph. Now do you understand my strength of character is levels above yours?**

“Heh. Careful, Norse. Even gods can be humbled,” Grimm grinned.

**That a challenge, little blue bird?**

“Anytime, blondie. You’re all power and no substance. Which makes you just a giant paperweight.”

Norse stood up and gripped her wand tightly. Grimm did the same.

“You know, we’re supposed to be a secret group. We might have to shave your head bald if your hair keeps glowing like that. It could give our position away at the wrong moment.”

“Hahahaha! That _would_ be a sight to behold! But you are correct. Now that I think about it, I still haven’t paid you back for practice earlier, Norse.” Liar also readied his wand.

**Bring it on, you pathetic wurms.**

As a brawl was about to erupt, the door to the locker room banged open.

_“What is going on here?!”_

Standing beside Moody were Dumbledore and Kingsley. They all looked at the Forgiven with judging stares. Grimm, Liar, and lastly, Norse lowered their wands and stood at attention.

All was silent for a moment.

“Are we sure they are ready, Dumbledore?” Kingsley cautioned.

“They are not required to work together for the first few missions. It will be fine,” Dumbledore calmly replied.

The three Forgiven raised their eyebrows.

“Missions? We’re being deployed?” Grimm asked.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“That is correct. The time is ripe to put your skills to the test.”

 

 


	5. Baby Statue

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: Tension grows between Grimm, Liar, and Norse. And just when tempers were at their highest, Dumbledore believes it is time for the group’s first missions._

_._

_._

Kingsley and Grimm waded through the thick mob of people, dressed in casual Muggle attire.

Music boomed loudly from the concert stage. Alcohol and smoking were making its run through the audience. As chaotic as the whole scene was, it made the pair’s target all the easier to sight.

A threat had been issued to the Ministry about a mass attack on the Muggle population. The letter cited the act would take place during the concert. Unfortunately, the Ministry had deemed the threat an empty one, going on a lack of evidence for justification. Dumbledore had gotten wind of the looming danger and sortied Kingsley and Grimm to counter it.

In the flock of human bodies, one man in poorly coordinated clothing stood out. He wore a penguin suit on the top half of his body, but ripped jeans and high heels on his lower. Though, most wizards were unable to fake Muggle appearances properly; considering they were at a concert, there was still some doubt that the man in question was indeed their target.

However, Grimm and Kingsley’s uncertainties were swiftly erased when the dark wizard pulled a wand from his bright, yellow fanny pack.

The two saw the threat and made their move. All the time, observing the man’s motions, looking for anything to contradict their assumptions. Though, solely from the way the man threw a deep loathing gaze at everyone around him, the pair knew they found their man. The wizard would take many innocent lives if not stopped.

Grimm and Kingsley went over the sequence of actions in their heads and readied themselves. They needed to be precise. Any minor slip ups would carry dire consequences.

As their target lifted his wand overhead, the pair positioned themselves on each side of him.

Grimm jabbed her wand into the man’s ribs.

 _“Avada Kedavra,”_ she whispered softly.

A faint green light, no brighter than a pen light flashed. No one around noticed as the man went dead limp. Kingsley casted a featherweight charm immediately after, and the pair caught him before he reached the ground.

They shouldered him and carried the body through the crowd as if taking care of a friend, who had too much to drink. Grimm and Kingsley then successfully navigated to a spot where there were no prying eyes.

As Kingsley made his final checks to make sure none was in the immediate vicinity, he saw his partner entranced by the concert performance.

“Grimm?”

“I’m paying attention, don’t worry.”

“…You like this music?”

“Yeah. I always thought Muggle music was better than magic. Lot of special memories of this band in particular.”

“I see.”

“Coast is clear on your end?”

“Yes. We should proceed.”

Grimm tore her eyes from the band and pointed her wand at the dead body.

_“Reducto Maxima.”_

Scarlet light engulfed the corpse as it began disintegrating it down to silt. When the spell finished, nothing but ash remained on the floor, eventually to be swept up by one of the concert hall’s janitors.

“That dampened the mood a bit…” Grimm commented.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Kingsley. Thank you for your concern.”

“You’re always so polite around me.”

“The same holds true for you too.”

“Hm…The music isn’t bad.”

“Told you. And if we didn’t kill him, people would be dying now. Instead of this song, we’d be hearing the screams and cries of Muggles and what have you.”

“Rather dark.”

“My name is Grimm, after all.”

“Grimma…”

“Don’t. Mad Eye tried to start the same conversation. I appreciate the thought but— _don’t_. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the concert before I have to think about the horrible things again, and feel bad about not feeling bad about them.....”

Kingsley slowly nodded and pulled out a small telescope. Grimm assumed the Auror was trying to get a better look at the band, but saw him scanning the crowd instead. She was about to ask him what he was searching for when he stopped.

An impish smile surfaced as Kingsley handed the telescope to her.

“I believe this will lighten your mood. Partition 9, row 3, column 4.”

Grimm took the telescope and put it to her eye.

After a few moments, she located who Kingsley wanted her to see.

It was a familiar, young, mousey haired girl jumping excitedly up and down. Grimm’s heart thumped hard for a moment and felt her eyes go hot. She didn’t know whether to be sad or happy. Ultimately she let herself experience the latter.

“……Thank you, Kingsley,” Grimm spoke in a soft voice.

The two stayed until the end of the concert before meeting up with the other pairs.

.

.

_(Meanwhile, at the Ministry)_

.

“Mad Eye.”

“What is it, Liar? Report your immediate emergency.”

“My immediate emergency is this is _demeaning_.”

“Quiet! We are to keep communication silence at all times unless a situation arises.”

“I can hear your mind cackle, old man!”

“Only contact me when you’ve run into a problem!”

Liar sighed inward and resumed Legilimency on those around him.

At that moment, he was taking the form of a statue situated in the middle of a water fountain. Mimicking the figures around him, Liar had no choice but to take on the appearance of a gray naked baby with wings.

“Honestly, what is it with sculptors and their questionable obsession with naked babies?!”

“Hrhrhr!”

“I heard that!”

“Enough! There’s Lucius! Find me something, Liar!”

The young wizard concentrated on the pretentious white haired man walking past him. Unfortunately, Lucius Malfoy’s mind was difficult to invade without alert. He was well versed in Occlumency and had various mental defenses in place.

Once the man had passed, Mad Eye began talking to Liar again.

“Well?”

“From what little I could gather, he seems to be partaking in a whole web of foul activities.”

“Excellent!”

“Emphasis on _foul_ , boss. Not illegal. Some of it’s on the behalf of the Ministry even. Remind me, who exactly are the good guys are again?”

“So nothing I can arrest him for. Wonderful! Nothing?! Death Eater related or otherwise?!”

“No. He appears to have washed his hands of the whole affair. Still poses the part for social networking, but overall a Death Eater no more. There was a small bit about some old diary, but he didn’t deem it very important.”

“Damn!”

“May we call it a day then? I’ve found you two corrupt Aurors, five spying Dark Wizards, eight cases of insider trading, and the latest gossip on your coworkers’ sexual behaviors. If I have to read another thought about enchanted dildos—“

“Fine, you can fall back.”

The instant Moody gave the okay, a naked baby statue Apparated in his Auror office. Mad Eye glared at Liar’s strange form, but decided that commenting on it was exactly what the boy wanted. In the end, he ignored the spectacle standing on his desk and went on to the next order of business.

“Got word from Dumbledore. We’re regrouping.”

“Bodyslide for two.”

And with that, Mad Eye and Liar were swallowed up by empty space and Disapparated from the room.

.

.

_(On the outskirts of a small village)_

_._

Various snakes in all shapes and colors slithered towards a humble settlement. Some of them the most venomous types in existence, while others were anacondas longer than the average person. Across open fields, they made their way under the cover of tall grass.

The only thing standing between the reptile swarm and the village was a certain tall witch and wizard. One with shining blonde hair and the other with a flowing white beard. Together, they pointed their wands at the approaching horde.

“ _INCENDIO MAXIMA!”_

**_INCENDIO MAXIMA!_ **

Great rings of fire bellowed from the pair’s wands and singed the surrounding grass black. It did little to phase the snakes, but took away their cover. The effect prepared the stage for their next attack.

Dumbledore stepped back to take the supporting role, while Norse moved forward. The witch breathed deep for the next cast.

As she exhaled with a great heft, the incantation boomed in her mind.

**_GLACIUS MAXIMA!_ **

Frost glassed the now barren land, and sleets of glittering ice coated the snakes. The sudden changes of temperature played havoc with the cold blooded creatures’ bodies. They convulsed with pain, some of them dying, unable to handle the stress it caused.

“MY BABIES!” yelled a witch from the hilltop a hundred feet away.

The instigator of the reptile attack was none other than the snake charmer lamenting over her suffering pets. She held her head as she rocked back and forth in dramatic agony.

Norse gave a cold snort at the skinny, almost lizard like, witch.

Stalwart as her way, Norse raised her wand to end it, but felt the wood crumble in her hands. She frowned annoyingly at the magical instrument that splintered into a thousand pieces. The degradation caused from her spells asking more than what the wand could handle.

Dumbledore watched the occurrence with a measuring eye.

“Norse.”

When the witch turned around, the Headmaster tossed his wand for her to use. Norse instantly felt an overwhelming sensation emanate from it as soon as it touched her fingertips. Intuitively, she knew this was no ordinary wand.

Without hesitation, she redirected her attention to the snake conjurer in the distance.

**_Avada Kedavra!_ **

A thunderbolt cracked from the wand and cut a deep gash through the air. For a moment, even brighter than the sun, a haunting green glare splashed the previously blue sky. The receiver of the attack offered no scream or sound of anguish; only falling noiselessly to the soft earth. It was a bit off-putting considering the grandness of the spell and its anticlimactic effect. But such was the nature of the Killing Curse…

**Hmph. Far from a worthy adversary.**

Norse turned to Dumbledore, while looking over the wand between her hands. She then formally returned it to her mentor, lowering her head much like a knight offering her sword.

The wizened wizard took it and bowed back.

They walked over to check on the snake charmer’s body to confirm the kill. Norse saw the witch’s wand and took it from her outstretched hand. She swished it around and then pouted at the incompatibility. For the moment, she had no choice but to use it as a replacement. It was a stark downgrade from the one Dumbledore let her borrow.

Norse faced Dumbledore and began writing.

**That is a good wand. May I ask where I could procure one like it?**

Dumbledore smiled.

“My apologies, Norse, but there _is_ no wand like this one…”

**A shame. I felt no matter how grand spell the spell I cast, that one would be able to endure.**

“Yes. It seems we must design a system to replace all the wands you and Grimm keep exhausting.”

**Hmph. I have shattered more than the puny one.**

“It is not a competition. Perhaps we can arrange a bargain with Ollivanders.”

Dumbledore turned to the village they were protecting and saw the residents had witnessed the whole battle.

“Oh dear. We have gathered an audience.”

**We should summon the sly one to perform memory charms.**

Dumbledore sent a message to Moody and a few moments later, the Mad Eye-Liar pair arrived. Even the Headmaster and Norse couldn’t help but laugh at their appearance.

A man with a magic eye and a wooden leg was holding hands with an animated baby statue. It was truly sight to behold.

After collecting themselves, Dumbledore turned to the two Forgiven, especially Norse.

“You too must practice your Obliviating Charms as well as your Memory Modifying spells. I will check your work when you are finished.”

Liar and Norse nodded in confirmation and made their way towards the village. As soon as the two were out of earshot, the Forgivers began talking amongst themselves.

“How was the boy?” Dumbledore asked.

“Give him the keys to the kingdom and he can’t stop himself from porting in and out of the Ministry. Uncanny sense for Apparation, that one. He can move multiple personnel like he were alone. Location and timing wise, he can do it on a dime. We saw him actually Disapparate _away_ from a Killing Curse before. He’ll be damn useful for escapes and infiltration.”

“And his Legilimency?”

“Up to snuff. Found us potential targets for future missions. He still can’t perform the Killing Curse, but with Grimm and Norse on the team, there’s hardly a need. How was Norse?”

“Exceeding expectations. She broke another wand today.”

Moody growled.

“Grimm and her go through those things like children do chocolate frogs! Not that we don’t have the funds, but it’s getting costly. Might have Liar steal from our deceased targets,” he joked.

“……We shall have him do so.”

“…I suppose that would be one way to handle it. The witch you brought down have anything to do with he-who-must-not-be-named?”

“No. Just a violent individual with an obsessive pension for snakes. Wherever Voldemort is hiding, he is masking his presence well.”

“ _Why is Norse running around with a gray baby and chasing villagers?”_

Mad Eye and Dumbledore turned around to see Kingsley and Grimm approaching them.

“ _That_ if you haven’t guessed, is Liar,” Moody grunted.

*SNORT!*

Grimm burst out in sudden, painful laughter.

After snorting a few times, she calmed herself.

“Did you see **her**?”

Dumbledore’s words seem to cut through her elation, like a cold wind.  No matter how much time passed, Grimm felt she would never really get along with the Headmaster.

The witch straightened and stiffly answered him.

“Yes.”

“I see. Why don’t you join Norse and Liar in their fun.”

“Chasing villagers and trying to modify their memories is supposed to be fun?”

“That seems to be the case for those two.”

“……No thanks. If that’s all, I’m heading back to base.”

Without any further words, Grimm Disapparated. Following after her were Moody and Kingsley.

Dumbledore stayed behind to make sure the incident was thoroughly struck from the villagers’ memories.

Although the three worked hard, they had apparently missed two witnesses…

Two witnesses who would later be mentioned in Hermione’s report on the Forgiven.

 

 


	6. Enemies Are Just Friends You Haven’t Won Over Yet

 

** Chapter 6 – Enemies Are Just Friends You Haven’t Won Over Yet **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: The group’s first trial missions were more or less successful._

_._

_._

_“Bombarda Duo!”_

**_Defodio! Wingardium Leviosa!_ **

Grimm sent a blasting spell Liar’s way, while Norse was conjuring a block of cement to defend him.

The exercise was meant to teach them to protect each other and watch each other’s back, as well as instill some measure of trust.

Just when the Liar was about to be knocked off his feet, the slab of concrete intercepted the attack in the nick of time. The brick exploded and covered him with dust. When the dust cloud settled, the boy was trembling like a frightened woodland animal.

“I still don’t understand why you had to take my wand away!” he complained.

“Because you keep casting a Shield Charm every time we do this,” Kingsley answered him. “Since your defenses are lacking, you may find yourself in a position where relying on Grimm or Norse is your only choice. This is about trust.”

“Yeah? Well, let it be noted that this is quite possibly the most twisted trust exercise in the history of all idiotic trust exercises!”

“We haven’t even gotten to Killing Curses yet.”

“And we never will! I’m drawing the line there! Nope! No. Thank you. VERY MUCH!”

At that moment, Moody and Dumbledore arrived in the stadium. They walked over to the four training, Mad Eye waving his wand.

_“Accio.”_

One of the tables stacked to the sides leapt to life and flew over to the group. Moody emptied his satchel’s contents onto the table, and fifteen wands clattered and rolled out on its wooden surface.

Norse and Grimm instantly brightened and hustled over to start snatching at different wands. The blue dyed witch found her match first, turning over the wand in her hand with a careful eye.

“Ebony, fourteen inches, Unyielding, and…Phoenix Core! Yes!!”

“Try not to break so many. You know Phoenix Cores aren’t exactly common. If you run out too fast, you’ll have to make do with the dragon heartstring substitutes,” Moody growled.

“Got it.”

Dumbledore handed Norse a rough looking wand.

“Blackthorn, fourteen inches, Rigid, Dragon Heartstring.”

Norse smiled and formally accepted the wand with open palms.

The two witches cast a couple of small spells to get a feel for their new wands. Though, the enchantments were supposed to be minor; due to Norse’s nature, the effects were always rather large and loud regardless of what spell it was.

Liar stepped near the table.

“I know I don’t really break mine, but there’s always a chance. Have you any spares for the likes of me?”

Mad Eye pulled one attractively, crimson colored wand from his pocket.

“Red Oak, twelve inches, Flexible, Phoenix Core. These are rare too, so don’t go bloody losing them.”

“We have the galleons to pay for it.”

“It’s scarce material, Liar. Can’t buy what ceases to exist.”

“Duly noted, boss.”

“Now! All of you are ready and equipped. It’s time for your first mission together!”

Grimm, Norse, and Liar immediately straightened and stood at attention.

“A dark wizarding guild called, ‘The Order of Black Fangs’ is attempting to overthrow the Ministry. I know, preposterous. They’re an amateur group at best, but they have the potential to become something bigger. We want you to put them out before they can get any traction.

The task is simple. You are to spy on their meeting, collect as much key intel as possible, and when they disperse, abduct one of their officers. I suggest putting them under the Imperius Curse. Avoid using Avada unless absolutely necessary.”

**“”Sir.””**

The three Forgiven responded.

“We’ve already went over the rules about how the Forgiven Covenant works, but to reiterate a point. If you are, at any point to be ‘captured’—the Fidelius and Unbreakable Vows may activate, and you _will_ die.” Moody’s Eye spun to look at each of them in turn. Not one showed a trace of apprehension. “If worst comes to worst, do anything and everything to get the hell out of there! Is that understood?!”

**“”Sir!””**

“Alright. Remember! Constant Vigilance! Grimm has command. Move out when you are ready.”

.

**************************

.

The three ported just outside a thick forest.

Immediately, they began casting various concealment charms that would muffle their sounds and hide their presence. When the enchantments were finished, they entered the forest.

Deeper and deeper they traveled through the trees. Eventually, coming up on the Black Fang’s meeting place.

It was an ancient stone formation in the middle of a grass clearing. The ruins bore a resemblance to an outdoor gazebo, but made out of marble with multiple thick pillars supporting the roof. In its center, eight shadowy figures gathered and lit a fire pit.

The Forgiven were able to maneuver themselves close with considerable ease. When they entered a certain distance, the group split to cover three spaced out points around the dark guild’s circle. The Black Fangs had set some security measures, but nothing the Forgiven had trouble slipping through.

In addition to listening to the dark guild’s half assed plans, Liar performed Legilimency to read their minds. Compared to their previous missions, it seemed this one would be rather easy. As if to stave off the boredom, Liar began,

_“Are you reading my thoughts?” Grimm accused telepathically._

_“……No.”_

_“Liar.”_

_“Noun or pronoun? It’s possible I did not think my alias through.”_

_“Unbelievable. Just stay on task.”_

_“It’s called multijuggling.”_

Grimm groaned a bit.

_“Right. Just don’t screw this all up. Bit unfair you can read my mind, but I can’t read yours, don’t you think?”_

_“You should brush up on your Legilimens then.”_

_“Or you could just tell me what you’re thinking and balance the scales.”_

_“Oh, loads of stuff. What I want to eat for dinner. How to poison Fudge’s fudge. How to transfigure Mad Eye into a ferret. How to save myself in case everything goes bad. What the best way to run away is.”_

“…”

_“I make it habit to form escape plans for my escape plans. At least five or so different exit strategies for when everything goes shit up. Must always be prepared, you know.”_

_“Yet you still got caught with your pants down when your Dark Lord fell.”_

_“Ah, yes…In hindsight, I really should have come up with a backup plan for that. But if you told me the greatest magical tyrant of all time was going to get his ass gloriously handed to him by an adolescent runt…well…”_

_“Never bet full against underdogs.”_

_“So it would seem. Still, things are going boringly smooth for this mission. Doubt I’ll need to use any emergency exits.”_

_“Don’t jinx it. I’ve got a bad feeling. Don’t know why, though.”_

It was then that Liar noticed Norse’s concealment charms fading. To make matters worse, it seemed the witch in question was completely unaware of this fact.

Liar observed the surroundings and saw certain runes etched into the pillars, barely discernible under the growing vines and moss. They had acted as an old revealing charm. It was outdated magic, so the Forgiven had overlooked it.

Liar couldn’t yell to Norse, since the Muffliato Charm had its limits. Instead, he opted to communicate with her through Legilimency like with Grimm.

Norse jumped at the sudden thoughts invading her head, being taken completely by surprise by Liar’s “voice”. With her sound cancelling charm wearing off, her movement had become audible. Finally realizing her concealment was fading, she aimed her wand at herself in a panic.

**_MUFFLIATO!_ **

The spell backfired to a most unfortunate degree.

Norse’s inherent nature of casting grandly and loudly resulted in a huge attention drawing effect. All of the Black Fang members stared in the witch’s direction. Their wands, all drawn at the ready due to the sudden commotion.

_“I can’t believe it!! Her sound cancelling spell made a bang!! Terribly ironic if it wasn’t for the situation!”_

_“Keep calm, Liar. They don’t know for sure she’s there yet.”_

_“They’re staring right at her!”_

_“The illusion’s back up. Relay an order to Norse. Tell her not to move and to keep—“_

**_CONFRINGO!_ **

_“—calm. Shite!”_

Norse began aiming blasting spells at all the Black Fang members as they started to swarm her. Grimm began casting her own stunning spells and caught two of the dark wizards in the back. Liar briefly joined the fray, but was unable to get a clean shot in all the chaos.

“We need to withdraw!” he shouted.

“I know! Norse!! Withdraw! That’s an order!”

Grimm tried to call out to the large witch, but she wasn’t listening.  Norse was lost in her battle frenzy and thought only of defeating the opponents around her.

“We have to get out of here!!!” Liar yelled.

“I know! But how do we get Norse? Can you Apparate her?”

“Not under all that fire!! Just leave her behind!!”

“What?! Are you insane?!”

“Suit yourself. I’m out of here!”

“Liar?!....LIAR!!! Shite!”

Grimm could only assume the wizard had already Disapparated.  She turned her attention back to Norse, who was on the verge of being completely surrounded.

“NORSE!!!” she tried to call out one last time. “DAMN IT! _Imperio!”_

In the confusion, Grimm was able to put Norse under the Imperius Curse. Though the witch’s mind bucked like a wild bronco, Grimm was able to keep a hold on her mental tethers.

She then pointed her wand at the floor.

_“FUMOS!”_

A great smokescreen filled the room, as Grimm commanded her Imperiused ally to run.

The two darted out of the marble gazebo and into the woods, their enemies hot on their trail. Grimm’s mind was too occupied with firing spells back at their pursuers and maintaining the Imperius to concentrate on her Apparition.

“LIAR, YOU BASTARD!! APPARATE US NOW!! I HAVE NORSE!”

For a moment, she wondered if the attempt was in vain, but shortly after, Liar appeared.

He grabbed the two witches, and ported them back to Moody’s safe flat.

.

.

The three held back their emotions until they touched the portkey that shifted them to the underground base. As soon as their feet hit the concrete, Kingsley, Dumbledore, and Moody rushed to meet them.

Not being able to bear it any longer, Grimm stalked towards Liar and threw a punch that knocked the wizard off his feet.

“LIAR, YOU FOCKING BASTARD!!”

“Yeah, _ogay_ …” he spat out a bloody tooth. “…I suppose that may have been deserved.”

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

“You heard Mad Eye. We do _anything_ to avoid getting caught. I still stayed behind just in case you guys found a way out, if you care to remember.”

“Don’t give me that!! You abandoned—!!”

Grimm’s sentence was cut short by Norse grabbing her around the collar and pulling her up. The large witch was flushed with anger. Without writing the words herself, the glowing letters appeared in distorted, crackling lightning.

**YOU IMPERIUSED ME!!**

“How else was I supposed to stop you?! You have a death wish so bad you were willing to die fighting like an idiot?!”

**IF IT WAS MY TIME, I WOULD DIE WITH HONOR!**

“Hah!” Liar scoffed. “That was honorable? See? She wanted to die. Told you we should have left her.”

“Shut up, Liar!! Honestly! Damn the BOTH of you! What kind of soldiers refuse to listen to their commander!!— _And you_.” Grimm locked death glares with Norse. “Put me down or I swear, I’ll put _you_ down.”

**I’d like to see you try, whelp!**

_“Ventus!”_

Grimm hit Norse with a wind spell that sent her flying twenty feet. When the glowing witch got up, she scowled.

As if waiting for this opportunity, the two Forgiven faced each other with wands held in front of their eyes. It was a gesture likened to the ways knights held up their swords; a signal they both consented to a wizard’s duel.

While the whole mess ensued, Moody and Dumbledore only stared at the whole debacle with a passive mood. It was Kingsley who spoke up first.

“Should we not…stop them?”

“They need this. Been a long time coming,” Moody responded.

Dumbledore simply conjured a bag of chocolate coated popcorn and shared it with the other two.

“If you’re going to duel, the Forgivers have exercised the right to ban you from using Unforgivable Curses!” Mad Eye proclaimed.

“Fine by me!!” Grimm answered with a fervor.

**Now you can’t cheat!**

“I don’t need to cheat to stick you!”

The two witches took their battle stances with murderous intensity.

And then, simultaneously, they unleashed a long chain of unincanted spells.

.

.

**_INCENDIO TRIA!_ **

_GLACIUS TRIA!_

Norse sent fire balls the size of trucks at Grimm, while Grimm countered by casting high tier freezing spells. Frozen stars bloomed in the resulting collisions. The air cracked like shattering glass as ice sculptures resembling dandelions formed midair.

The two snarled at each other and looked down at the wands they were holding. Both of them had broken in the exact same moment. Without any hesitation, they tossed the useless remnants away and pulled out new ones.

“Damn it!” Moody cursed.

**_BOMBARDA MAXIMA!_ **

_“Protego Maxima!”_

Norse caused an explosion that sent ice shards flying towards Grimm, who erected a barrier to block the icy shrapnel. The frosted daggers shrieked as they deflected off the light force bubble like scraping steel.

In the peanut gallery, Kingsley healed Liar’s tooth.

_“Emendo.”_

“’Hankz. Ay hot hen halheons hon horse.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, ‘Thanks. I got ten galleons on Norse.’” Liar caressed his jaw.

“You want to _bet_ on their duel?”

“ _Twenty on Grimm,”_ Moody growled as he took a swig from his flask.

Kingsley turned to him. “Alastor?”

“Twenty five!” Liar raised the stakes.

“Fifty,” Moody reraised.

“Your coin, old man!” The boy then turned to Dumbledore. “Wouldn’t suppose the Headmaster would like to join the betting pool?”

The old wizard fumbled with his beard for a moment.

“Fifty down, double if they tie.”

“Interesting bet, Master Dumbledore. Kingsley, do you want in? Give you some good odds.”

“I will abstain, thank you.”

**_Levicorpus_ ** _!_

The duel seemed to be at an end when Norse threw a curve ball and elected to cast a spell to lift Grimm upside down. With her opponent’s mental and physical balance disturbed, the blonde witch believed her vulnerable to a finishing blow.

“Hmph. Taught her better than to crack under pressure like that,” Moody muttered.

The veteran Auror was right. Far from panicking, Grimm saw a delay in Norse’s actions from the overconfidence. The cold calculating witch formulated her next strategy.

_“Obscuro.”_

A blindfold appeared and wrapped around Norse’s eyes. The large witch quickly repelled it in response.

**_Finite!_ **

When Norse’s vision freed, she opened her eyes wide, trying to assess the situation. It was exactly what Grimm was counting on, as she had her next spell at the ready.

“ _LUMOS SOLEM!”_

An illumination spell as bright as the sun blinded everyone’s sight. For Norse, who was scanning hard after losing her vision, the effects of Grimm’s spell were doubly devastating.

**_PROTEGO TOTALUM!_ **

The blind combatant desperately threw up a multilayered shield.

As Grimm stared at the glowing force field, she paused on what spell to use next. After a quiet thought, she took a deep breath. The lines on her face softened.

_“….Expelliarmus.”_

A scarlet bolt tore away part of Norse’s shield and disarmed her. At the same time, a fragment of the spell was deflected back at Grimm, causing her wand to fly through the air as well.

Dumbledore quickly raised his hand.

“As both combatants have been disarmed, I call an end to this match and proclaim the conclusion to be a draw!”

“Bullocks!” Liar shouted in disbelief.

“The judges have spoken. I am sure Mad Eye and Kingsley will agree.”

“As long as the fight ends,” Kingsley commented.

Moody gave a grunt. “They’d break the rest of their wands if this continued.”

“That’s rather cunning of you, Master Dumbledore.” Liar turned to the Headmaster. The young wizard summoned a pouch of galleons and handed it to him.

“I will take that as a compliment coming from you, Master Liar.”

 “ALRIGHT!” Moody commanded their attentions.” All of you hit the showers! Grimm, report on the mission afterwards.”

“Sir.”

The three Forgiven collected themselves and trudged off to the base’s locker room.

Moody glanced at Dumbledore with a small smirk.

“We both know who won that match.”

The Headmaster sighed and gave Mad Eye his share of the winnings.

.

_._

_(On the female side of the shower room)_

_._

**You won.**

Norse’s glowing words drifted in front of Grimm, while she changed.

“What are you on about now?”

**The duel….You won.**

“It was a draw.”

**You could have broken my shield.**

“I did. Just didn’t expect it to be strong enough to mirror back a part of my spell. Careless of me, really.”

**Do not patronize me! It was your victory!**

Grimm turned around and stared at Norse for a moment and then sighed.

“Would’ve taken forever to break it down. Plenty of time for you to counterattack. Any spell that didn’t shatter it completely would have given away my position. Instead of letting it drag on where I would have been at disadvantage, I let it end on my terms.”

**Hmph. Your words ring hollow.**

“Believe whatever you want, Norse. I really don’t care.”

…

**If we were allowed Unforgivable Curses, my shield would not have mattered.**

“If Avada Kedavra was on the table, it would have been a whole different match.”

**You would have Imperiused me.**

“Probably that too. In the end, I doubt I could say for sure if it could’ve been done.”

The two witches changed in silence for a while. Before Grimm realized, a few more sentences floated in front of her.

**I apologize for questioning your mettle. You are a true warrior.**

When Grimm turned around, the giant witch was trying all she could to look away.

“I didn’t know you had a shy side to you, Norse. It’s kind of cute.”

Norse’s back stiffened, even more adamant on not turning around.

“……I’m sorry for earlier—on the mission. The Imperius Curse.”

Grimm’s teammate seemed to go into deep thought at the sentence, and then began writing.

**No. It was the correct choice. I see now the err of my ways and apologize for my disloyalty.**

“Hey. How am I supposed to react if you’re suddenly so docile? Don’t tell me you’re one of those types that makes friends after you fight?”

**I have no friends.**

Grimm almost laughed, but stopped herself. After all, who was she to laugh when she didn’t have many friends either; before or after joining the Forgiven.

“……I can make an Unbreakable Vow to never use the Unforgivable Curses on you ever again,” Grimm offered.

This time Norse turned and met Grimm’s gaze. Then shook her head.

**The thought is enough.**

Grimm walked over and stretched out a hand.

“It was a good fight, right?”

**It was.**

The two witches grasped each other’s forearms.  A mutual respect developed between them.

**You are aware this will not be our last bout.**

_*Sigh*_ “ _Of course_ , it’s not….”


	7. Trust Cannot Be Stolen

** ** **. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: Grimm, Norse, and Liar’s first mission together ended in complete disaster. Heads clashed between team members. In the aftermath of a Wizard’s Duel, Grimm and Norse were able to resolve their differences and come to mutual understanding, after almost killing each other._

_._

_._

After failing to abduct a member of the Black Fangs, the team was given a second chance at redemption.

The Forgiven found fifteen of the dark guild’s members meeting. Like their previous gathering, it was at a marble gazebo ruin. Apparently there were a number of them scattered throughout the forest.

Security measures were much tighter than the last time, but still nothing the team could not bypass. To make sure the concealment charms didn’t wear off this time and previous mistakes were not repeated, Liar performed constant maintenance to Norse’s stealth enchantments. The mission seemed like it would go off without a hitch this time.

But that changed immediately when the fifteen Black Fang members summoned a prisoner in the middle of them.

 _“Okay… What are they planning to do with that poor bastard?”_ Grimm frowned.

_“I’ve seen him at the Ministry. He’s got this thing for Enchanted Dildos—“ Liar started._

_“The point, Liar.”_

_“He occupies a middle position. Not exactly a grunt, but not an individual wielding significant influence either…”_

_“Unlucky is what he is. He was kidnapped so the pretend revolutionists can make some sort of point.”_

_“That would be my assumption. I believe they are going to kill him to boost morale and lend credence to their Order.”_

**_Despicable worms!_** Norse chimed in.

_“Liar. Can you Apparate him out safely?”_

_“They’ll attack him_ and me _before that happens.”_

_“Norse and I will provide distraction. We’ll leave at least one alive to abduct and call you when we need evac.”_

_“You plan on fighting all of them?!”_

_“Me and Norse can handle them.”_

**_They will fall before the mighty storm that is Grimm and I!_ **

_“You…don’t want my help?” Liar asked uncertainly._

_“We know better than to trust you in the fight. I’d rather you stay out of it entirely than rely on you, and find you not there.”_

_“Heh! You won’t hear any complaints from me.”_

_“Yeah. Now, shut up and get ready. Norse?”_

**_FOR IRE!_ **

_“I’ll take that as you’re ready. My mark...”_

Grimm felt her companions synch their timings telepathically.

_“3…_

_2…_

_1…”_

_“INCENDIO!”_

**_INCENDIO!_ **

Norse and Grimm blanketed the guild members with hellfire.

Under the cover of the carpeting flames above, the Forgiven moved each side of the prisoner. While making sure no harm came to the Ministry worker, Liar appeared, grabbed him, and then Disapparated.

Back to back and left to fight to their heart’s content, Norse and Grimm stared down the fifteen dark wizards around them.

Lights flashed; zigzagging across the room. In the trading fire, several groans could be heard, as well as bodies collapsing. Pieces of the marble columns and floor went flying.

Against the lesser duelists, the Grimm and Norse held their own, despite odder numbers. More often than not, the guild members got in each other’s way more than worked together. It was a clumsy thing compared to the well-oiled, well-trained pair that was Grimm and Norse.

The fiercer the battle grew, the brighter Norse’s hair seemed to glow. Grimm found the sign strangely comforting as an excited smile appeared on her partner’s lips.

More spells lit the night with bright colors. Within the fast paced skirmish, the two Forgiven targeted down their enemies with deadly precision. One by one their enemies fell until only one remained.

_“Stupefy!”_

Grimm stunned the remaining dark wizard, designated as the one they would kidnap and interrogate for later.

She and Norse looked at all the bodies littering the ground. Some of them had suffered fatal blows, while others were grievously injured or rendered unconscious. Since Moody told them to kill only if necessary, they stopped themselves from doing further harm.

 _“Liar. We’re finished,”_ Grimm called.

_“….Alright, heading back.”_

Liar appeared, while Grimm and Norse were performing Obliviating Charms and collecting wands from their defeated. Grimm pointed to the Black Fang member that was simply stunned to indicate the one they were taking with them.

She noted that Liar was alone. “What happened to the Ministry worker?”

“Modified his memories and set the crying man free.”

“Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

“Ran pretty smoothly this time around.”

“…Yeah.”

The group covered their tracks and returned to the underground base with no further trouble.

.

.

Norse, who was carrying their abductee over her shoulder, tossed him at the Forgivers’ feet like a sack of potatoes. Moody checked the man over and motioned Kingsley to arrest him. The Auror was in charge of the Black Fang case for the Ministry, so he would be the one to handle things from there on.

Mad Eye turned to the Forgiven team.

“Looks like you did it right this time. Go wash up and then I’ll hear your report,” he grunted.

“Oi! Is that all we get? No congratulations or ‘job well done’?” Liar piped up.

“That’s the way Mad Eye says good job,” Grimm said as she walked to the locker rooms. Norse followed shortly after her.

The three washed up quickly and debriefed Moody about what occurred during the mission. Mad Eye was little surprised about the inclusion of a prisoner, which provoked the direct action of the team. It was taken as a nonverbal sign of approval he didn’t admonish them at that part of the recount.

When the report was finished, Moody merely nodded and said,

“Dumbledore thinks you kids deserve a breather for your hard work. You get a day off—can spend it outside. DO. NOT. GET. CAUGHT.”

After that, Moody left.

With the end of the report, the three finally breathed easy as the mission was “officially” sanctioned as over and done with. Norse playfully shoved Grimm who immediately shoved back. The three all had big smiles upon their first, _true_ successful venture.

“So! Free day, permission to go enjoy the outside world. What mischief can we get into while retaining our group’s secrecy?” Liar posed.

The other two were silent for a bit.

“I don’t know. Not really in the mood to start trouble, really.” Grimm picked at a new wound on her arm.

**A bare knuckle brawl would be good sport.**

“Is fighting all that goes through that brain of yours?”

Norse grinned and shrugged.

Liar wheeled in front of the two. “Weeeelll, there’s this big Quidditch match tomorrow. Poland and Egypt are in an elimination round for the World Cup. The stadium’s got high end security for those without tickets, but I can sneak us in.”

“Uh...Meh. Don’t feel like it.”

**Me neither.**

“Oh come on! It’s Quidditch! Everyone loves Quidditch. And it’s _free!_ ” Liar spread his arms.

“Nah. You have fun then.”

“Wait! What are you lot going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

**There’s a Wizard’s Duel Tournament being held in the city over.**

Grimm crossed her arms. “Again with the fighting. Yeah, oka—Wait, you’re not thinking of participating, are you? You’d obliterate everyone. I mean, and of course, we’d expose ourselves.”

“Oh! Now that sounds like fun. When is it?”

Grimm and Norse stared blankly at Liar again.

“Weren’t you going to the Quidditch match?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah, well…We could do both, right?”

**I believe they are at the same time.**

“Oh. Is that right? Well, I’m not all that attached to the Quidditch idea. I mean, there’s loads of fun to be had gambling on Duels. Fair amount of money to be made in that.”

**Trying to profit from the battles between warriors is a despicable practice.**

“Yikes. Okay, I _won’t_ gamble on the matches. Just enjoy the duels in their _normal_ , _nongambling_ way.”

Norse gave him the stink eye and walked towards the dorms.

As the two watched her blonde hair trail away, Grimm glanced at Liar. “Don’t worry about it. Enjoy the Quidditch match tomorrow.”

“Uh—Y-yeah. You sure don’t want to come with? Didn’t you mention one of your favorite players is on the Egyptian team?”

“Dunno. I actually might opt to just stay here and train if anything,” she shrugged.

“Has anyone ever mentioned you take things too seriously?”

“Yeah…once.”

“I see. Well… You know what? I’ll ask the two of you again tomorrow. See if you don’t change your minds then.”

“Sure, Liar. Night.”

“Yeah. Night...” The boy bade her an awkward good night.

Grimm ran off to catch up with Norse. As she did, the smaller witch kicked her friend’s butt. They began shoving each other again.

Without much thought, Liar used a little Legilimency to tap Norse’s mind.

“Were you serious about the whole gambling thing?” Grimm asked her.

**Of course, not. Betting on the fights is half the fun. Matches are always more exciting with wagers on the line.**

“You can’t enter the tournament, Norse.”

**Hmph. No fun in you. Then again, if you or I entered, we would win the competition _too_ handily. There would be no fun or glory in that either. Anything _you_ would like to do?**

“That talk about Quidditch sounded good. Been a fan of Egypt’s Seeker for a while now.”

**Hm hm! And the Polish Beaters are something to behold. We shall find a pub to watch the game and drink!**

“No bar brawls. And we’re underage to drink?”

**Ugh! Fine, Mother!**

Liar cut off the connection and went to bed.

The next day, he woke to find Grimm and Norse already gone.

**.**

.

Floating on his broom above the many spectators, Liar watched the Quidditch match with bored indifference. He practically hovered within the playing field under one of Moody’s Invisibility Cloaks. It was easily the best seat in the house, but the quality was lost on him.

He had bet heavy on the Egyptian team winning. Before he knew it, he put down his whole allowance. It was a desperate attempt to spark some feeling of excitement to fill the void growing in his chest.

Another Quaffle soared into one of Poland’s goals. Victory was practically guaranteed for Egypt. Even if the Polish team managed to capture the Snitch, they were too far behind in points.

The fans cheered and the team colors went up in celebration.

Despite Liar’s winning gamble, the wizard felt nothing. He had easily tripled his funds betting on the bad odds, but didn’t feel even a sliver of joy. Not bothering to watch the end of the match or collect his winnings, he left.

On the way out, he passed by the teams’ locker rooms and stole some mint condition jerseys from famous players. Along with their spare brooms and a pristine looking Quidditch set.

He flew around, above the clouds for a while. The professional grade brooms granted him speed he had never experienced before. Liar fell through the clouds, zoomed up again, and repeated the maneuver until he got bored.

The wizard then returned to the underground base early. He set down the brooms he stole, five in all. Liar let out the snitch from the Quidditch set and began chasing it around the bunker. The boy would have made a good Seeker from how fast he was able to catch the tiny ball.

Completely lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t taken notice to someone watching him.

“Liar?”

“Oh. Greetings, Kingsley.”

The boy stopped chasing the Snitch and landed softly to the ground.

“Do I even want to know how you acquired this Quidditch gear labeled with the Egyptian and Polish team banners? I believe they had a match today,” Kingsley inquired.

“…No. It is highly probable that you do _not_ want to know.”

“Liar…”

“So what brings you here on our day off?”

“I was going to see Mad Eye, but he seems out at the moment.”

“Yeah. He and Dumbledore said something about tracking the Lestranges.”

“Hm. Didn’t tell me they had any leads.”

“Welcome to the ‘left out of things’ club~♪”

“Pardon?”

Liar caught himself and cleared his throat. “Nothing. It’s just stupid nothing.”

Kingsley rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Liar said.

“Nonsense. You love talking about everything.”

“……….Fine.”

For the next few minutes, Liar explained the estrangement between him and his two teammates. While doing so, he juggled a few Quaffles to keep his hands busy.

“And I understand the _reasoning_ behind it. They would be a bit foolish if they acted chummy with someone who ditched them. Norse twice,” Liar went on.

“Difficult to recover from,” Kingsley nodded.

“And I’m not the scrapping type, so I don’t have the whole ‘shed blood together’ comradery in tow. Can’t save _their_ lives. Neither do I want to if it endangers mine.”

“Understandable.”

“How am I to remedy this situation? Impart on me some of that famed, adult wisdom you lot always brag about.”

Kingsley shrugged sympathetically.

“Unlike professional Quidditch equipment, trust cannot be stolen.”

“Careful now. Don’t want to be _too_ helpful or I might have to pay you for it. Sorry, sorry. Sometimes I can’t stop myself.”

“I think you may just have to give it time.”

“Damn. I abhor giving things time. It always takes entirely too long.”

The man smiled sadly at him.

“Come on,” Kingsley ushered.

He walked over to one of the brooms and picked it up. He hesitated for a second with the morality of using stolen goods. Ultimately, he chose to mount a broom and began flying after the Snitch.

With a smile on his face, Liar flew off after him.

The two zoomed through the air, competing to see who could catch the Snitch before the other. They raced along the sides of the large underground stadium. Before they knew it, the time was late at night.

Suddenly, they heard someone arrive, and saw Grimm and Norse appear through the portkey. The glowing witch was leaning over her smaller companion, barely conscious. Kingsley and Liar immediately landed before them.

“What happened?! Who—?!“Kingsley asked in alarm.

Grimm held up a hand to calm them down.

“We’re okay. She’s just…drunk.”

“HAHA—* _Ahem*_ sorry,” Liar coughed.

Kingsley looked at the two witches with a stare of supreme disappointment. “Were both of you—“

“We made sure to Obliviate anyone who caught a glimpse of our faces.”

“Grimm…I expected better from you. From _both_ of you.”

“I was watching the game in the pub, and when I turned around, Norse was chugging down a pint of whatever the hell it was! Like I was supposed to stop that?! For someone so large, she is deceptively fast…”

“Moody and Dumbledore will be informed,” Kingsley said in a low voice.

“Aw, Fock Dumbledore.”

…

An awkward silence permeated the room. In place of cricket sounds, there was a Snitch beating its wings and zooming through the air.

Grimm, now realizing what she said, started scratching her cheek. “Huh. Did I say that out loud? Norse _miiiiight_ have snuck something into my drink while I wasn’t looking.”

“Oh wow…This is—Um…no. No words…” Liar said, not bothering to contain his grin.

Kingsley shook his head with deeper disproval.

“Well, I’d like to go hide in bed now before Mad Eye sees us soooooo g’night~♪” the blue haired witch tried to brush over.

“Wouldn’t care to play some Quidditch? Procured us some professional caliber brooms. Even several jerseys! Think I heard you mention that you like _this_ player? Huh?” Liar offered as he held up a player jersey.

“…Maybe next time.”

* _Sigh_ * “Yeah, okay. Um. Sleep well.”

The Grimm nodded and carried Norse to their dorms. As soon as they were gone, Liar turned to Kingsley.

“Come ON! What do I have to do?!”

“Did you really believe you could _bribe_ her for her friendship?”

“No! But I was expecting _some_ kind of reaction!”

Kingsley sighed and patted the young wizard’s back consolingly.

-

The next morning, Grimm and Norse had massive hangovers while being shouted at by Mad Eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Gee. Thanks.

****

**.**

_Previously on The Forgiven: Grimm, Norse, and Liar were successful upon the repeat of their mission. While Grimm and Norse have forged a friendship, Liar continues to be alienated for abandoning them on their first assignment._

_._

A few months have passed since the success of the Forgiven’s first mission.

The team of three completed several clandestine missions since then with all the expertise of professionals. Dumbledore, Mad Eye, and Kingsley were fairly impressed by their performance, which repeatedly surpassed expectations. Everything seemed to be going well, at least, from an outside perspective.

 _Within the team_ , however, they were divided between Grimm-Norse and Liar.

The boy wizard, who was talented in espionage, naturally became the Forgiven’s designated spy and utility man. He gathered information, acted as their infiltrator and exfiltrator, played the thief, and was the tool for all the odd jobs.

Meanwhile, Grimm and Norse worked together most of the time to do the heavy lifting. Being the ones who were fluent in the Killing Curse, they handled all the battles and assassinations. Only they personally experienced life threatening situations, while Liar was mostly stationed in the rear in complete safety.

It wasn’t a bad set up at all. In fact, the organization worked with a fluid efficiency. If it was compared to cooking, Liar gathered and prepped the ingredients, while Norse and Grimm cooked the meal. They each had their assigned parts and performed them well, producing optimal results overall.

Grimm actually possessed skills both clandestine _and_ combat. This led the leader to having an interchangeable role, where she often worked with both her teammates separately. At the moment, she was partnering with Liar to scout a potential enemy’s workshop.

Recently, Dumbledore and Mad Eye had heard disturbing rumors concerning the activity of a certain Death Eater. It was said that one of them was making real strides towards resurrecting Voldemort. The Headmaster had an inkling that an artifact in Hogwarts may hold a clue, and was investigating there. Kingsley was working with the Ministry on his end. Mad Eye was reaching out to his informants. And that left the Forgiven to do the leg work and follow their best leads.

Grimm and Liar left Norse behind, and snuck into one of Voldemort’s old castles. It was a tall, grand structure. Several towers stretched towards the sky with gnarled rooftops, which gave it a twisted sort of atmosphere. Grimm had the strangest sensation the estate was very much like a mini dark version of Hogwarts. Maybe a school with only Slytherins would be accurate.

It took Liar hours to get through all the security enchantments, but eventually, they were able to walk freely in the halls of the lair. The pair moved from room to room, casting detection charms to probe the nooks and crannies. The castle seemed like it hadn’t been touched for a long while. Layers of dust had gathered on every surface.

Without finding much of anything, they arrived at Voldemort’s laboratory. Unlike the other places they checked, the basement was fairly clean and possessed traces of life.

“Okay. Someone’s definitely been in here… Liar, do a recheck of security. There’s a good chance, they’ve added extra defense charms on this floor.”

“Got it.”

As the wizard worked to disarm all the traps and defenses, Grimm scanned the lab with a cautious eye. The walls were lined with shelves housing a variety of potion books and apparatuses. Jars full of mythical beast parts and ingredients. On the work desk, were several cauldrons: two of them stewing over an active fire. The steam colors changed with each passing second.

“We’re clear.”

After Liar gave the green light, the two walked to the cooking cauldrons in question. Back in Hogwarts, Grimm sped through her Potions Classes with impressive results, but even this concoction was beyond her. She glanced at Liar, who had a hand to his chin.

“You know what this is?” she asked.

“……I can’t decipher all of the compounds but…”

“What? What is it?”

Liar sighed. “There’s definitely Unicorn Blood in it.”

“Ugh. So this is what they’re trying to use to revive you-know-who.”

“Heavy odds on that.”

“Alright…This can get tricky real fast.”

“What do you suppose we should do?”

“Something this complicated. It must be easy to make a mistake, right?”

“Yes. It would.”

“Do you think you can sabotage it without the chemist knowing it was on purpose?”

“Please. Sabotage is my forte.”

Liar cracked his fingers and rubbed his hands together. He began moving his wand right above the liquid’s steaming surface. Small ripples coursed through the brew as it lightly bubbled.

_Wingardium Leviosa._

A small portion of the potion floated into the air and into a small petri dish. Liar incanted all kinds of testing spells, trying to determine the ingredients, as well as the materials to counteract them.

“Okay. Let’s see…I’ll need an eye of dragon, two hippogriff feathers, a mermaid’s scale, and a one centaur… testicle.”

Grimm looked at him wide eyed.

“............Are you serious?”

“No, I’m just fockin’ with you! Just hand me that green bottle on your left.”

“How did you say all that with a straight face?”

“It was  _very_  difficult.”

Grimm chuckled and handed him the bottle.

“Finally, she laughs! My goodness, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you or Norse so much as smiled in front of me.”

“We do serious work, Liar. We don’t exactly have the convenience, or the breathing room to screw around.”

“So you say. But you and Norse seem to find the time to enjoy your battles. Not the killing part mind you, but the brawling portions.”

“Fighting is fun.”

“And so is sneaking around. I know you actually like it as much as I do, and you’re good at it.”

“Pretending like you know everything.”

“I  _do_ know everything.”

“Oh yeah? Did you also know Norse and I have been awares you’ve been using Legilimency to spy on us?”

Liar gulped and stopped his work.

“Okay…I might not have known that.”

“You were the one who suggested brushing up on my Legilimency.”

“I—…I have no excuse.”

Grimm shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

“You’re…not furious with me?”

“Well. I’d be more surprised if you _didn’t_ try something like that.”

“Now who’s pretending to know everything?”

“I’m your leader. It’s my  _job_  to know the ins and outs of my team.”

“I see. Well, that’s wonderful. As if I wasn’t in the dog house already. Any remaining hope of patching things up has gone out the window. Not like we're supposed to be friends in any case. Just three kids trying to be ‘forgiven’.”

“….Hehe!” Grimm chuckled.

“What?”

“I had a hint, but I was completely bluffing about you spying on us.”

Liar gaped at Grimm.

“………You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Your mind reading really is undetectable. As big headed as you are, you actually underestimate your abilities, don’t you?”

“Unbelievable!” Liar cried.

“Need to brush up on my Occlumency and Legilimency so I can detect you for real. You should work on your card game.”

“UN. BELIEVABLE!”

“C’mon, Finish up, already.”

Liar gave a deep groan and completed sabotaging the potion.

The liquid stewed a sequence of rapid changing colors. After a small light show, it restored to its original disposition. It seemed no one would be the wiser if they compared the concoction to a few minutes ago.

“Done and done. And what pray tell is our next course of action?”

Grimm weighed the options in her head with care.

“I want to camp out. Wait for whoever cooked this to come back, and Imperius them.”

“Alright, then.”

“You should return. It’ll be dangerous. Inform everyone about the situation.”

“You’re going to stay here— _alone_? What happens if you get caught?”

“I’m good at sneaking, remember?” Grimm grinned.

“Greetings. My name is Liar and I lied about that bit.”

“Shut up, I’ll be fine.”

“Grimm…” Liar spoke in a serious tone.

“…?”

“I’m staying with you.”

“Things could get hairy.”

“Would you please stop treating me like I’m chicken shite? I’m trying to prove myself here!” Liar exclaimed.

“Picking the worse time to do it…”

“Something’s off about this mission, and you know it. I’ll live with the insubordination and Mad Eye’s lecture, or whatever else.”

“How noble~♪” Grimm teased. “For a chicken shite.”

Liar grunted in exasperation and went to find a hiding spot. Grimm laughed a little and followed.

The two took apart a section of the stone ceiling and hid in it. Once through, Liar enchanted concealment charms to camouflage their presence, and fill the hole with an illusionary one.

Now, all they had to do was wait.

“The blue’s wearing out,” Liar commented suddenly.

“Hm?”

“The blue. In your hair. It’s wearing out.”

“Ah… Yeah. Been a while since you dyed it.”

“Should I attend to it when we return home?”

There was a tense silence that followed the question.

“I…’ve been thinking of learning to do it myself for a while now.”

* _Sigh_ *”Yeah. Alright. I get it.”

“Look, Liar—“

“Shh! Someone’s tripped my detection charm outside.”

They immediately switched over to communicating through thoughts.

_“Do you know who it is?”_

_“’They’. There’s **four** of them. Two are the Lestranges. I recognize them from Moody’s files. Should I send an emergency message?”_

_“No. I doubt they’d be able to detect it, but on the off chance they do—No. The safer option is to wait this out, and escape when we can. The concealment charm will hold, right?”_

_“It will. I can promise that.”_

_“A promise on your life. We can’t Apparate in here, and the Lestranges aren’t weak enough to Imperius. The fight’s gonna be tough if it comes to that.”_

_“It won’t.”_

_“Be ready to send the message.”_

_“Understood.”_

In the next moment, they heard the door to the lab open and four raggedly cloaked figures stepped through the threshold.

The Lestranges went straight to the cauldrons to check on the potions’ state, while the other two hung back behind them. When they removed their hoods, Grimm immediately recognized the woman. The young man on the other hand, she had trouble believing.

_“Bellatrix and.....Barty Crouch Jr.?!” She furrowed her brow._

_“Crouch? As in, Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department Crouch?”_

_“His son…”_

_“Wow. The apple fell, grew legs, and ran from the focking tree on that one.”_

_“Not too surprised. His dad’s an asshole.”_

_“Sounds persona that.”_

_“Yeah, well, he did sentence me to life in prison or death once upon a time.”_

_“What a coincidence. I shared a similar fate. And who would the crazed looking woman frothing at the mouth be? Bellatrix, was it? I don’t recognize her.”_

Grimm stared at Liar for a time.

_“………You don’t?”_

_“No. Should I?”_

_“Well. She_ **was** _pronounced dead so that’s why we never went over her profile but…”_

_“But what?”_

_“She’s a really prominent Death Eater. You don’t recognize her at all?”_

_“No? Why would I?”_

_“Well…”_

Grimm pointed to Liar’s Dark Mark, as if to remind him that he was a former Death Eater.

_“Oh. Well, I never met her personally or anything. We ran in different circles.”_

_“Right…—“_

Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a wrathful screech below.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘THE POTION’S FAILED’?!?!” Bellatrix started a tantrum.

“Something must have been off in our alchemy,” Rudolphus Lestrange answered.

His brother, Rabastan, stepped beside him. “The potion is very complex. Some errors are to be expected!”

But the wild witch wouldn’t hear of it. “That’s all you can come up with?! Excuses?!”

“You have no room to criticize us! It’s not as if you had any hand in its brewing!!”

“Enough!” Crouch Jr. yelled as he moved between them. “We just have to gather more ingredients. The revival potion comes closer to completion with every attempt.”

“Listen to the boy, sister-in-law. He has more sense than you do. Now go fetch us more Unicorn Blood.”

“HOW DARE YOU ORDER ME AROUND!!”

Bellatrix fired a yellow bolt from her wand that drew a crooked arc towards Rabastan. The wizard barely pulled out his own wand in time to deflect it. When the spell changed direction, it flew to the ceiling; more specifically, the place where Grimm and Liar were hiding.

_““SHITE!”” they both thought._

The two dove away from the peeking hole as a yellow beam went through the illusion charm and almost hit them. After the projectile dissipated, Liar and Grimm knew they had to recover fast.

First, recast the concealment charms before they faded. A strange painting-like liquid spouted from Liar’s wand and masked the hole that was torn briefly.

Next, Grimm had to replicate the attacking spell’s effects. She pointed her wand at an uncollapsed part of the hole.

_Reducto!_

Liar’s charms hid the red light given off the spell, as part of the roof crumbled down into the room below.

If the four downstairs were paying attention, they would have noticed the delayed impact and all the incongruities that came with it. Liar prepared to send the emergency message, while Grimm steeled herself for a fight.

A few tense moments passed, but all the pair heard was more arguing below. Additional spells were fired off, which seemed to distract the Death Eaters from Grimm and Liar’s presence. Eventually, the quarrel settled. The Forgiven breathed easy after seeing the four begin work on a new potion.

When Grimm was sure they had gotten as much key information as they could, she turned to Liar.

_“Okay. Let’s get the hell out of here.”_

_._

_._

Grimm and Liar returned to the underground base safe and sound. Before them were all three Forgivers, who listened intently to every word of their report.

“And you’re sure it was Crouch’s son?” Kingsley asked in disbelief.

Grimm nodded. “Without a doubt.”

“There were rumors but…”

“The mission’s touchier than a Blast Ended Skrewt. The Department of Defense Head’s son…” Moody spat.

“A high profile case. This is no longer a suitable mission for the Forgiven,” Dumbledore added.

“Aye. We risk exposure with something like this.”

“It has become a Ministry matter. Aurors will soon be investigating.”

“ _Are we sure we want to leave it to them?”_

They all turned to Grimm.

“Bellatrix, Lestranges, Crouch…They’re powerful magi. Some good Aurors could die trying to bring them in. Might be the better course of action if we take them out ourselves.”

“…No,” Kingsley flatly refuted. “We risk Barty Crouch investigating the Forgiven if we assassinate his son. Even if we erased all evidence, the man won’t let things go so easily. Besides…” He looked at the teenagers. “…As skilled as you are, these are full grown Death Eaters. Witches and wizards who were part of the Dark Lord’s innermost circle.”

To that, Norse threw him a stubborn look, while Grimm seemed to take in his precautions, at least part of them.

“How about some assistance, then? Make sure the Ministry doesn’t screw it up. Liar and I have seen the castle. We know the layout,” Grimm suggested.

“I see. When the operation takes place, I will bring Liar with me. The fighting will be left to the Official Law Enforcement, however. You and Norse will not be a part of it.”

“Besides, you have other work to do,” Mad Eye growled, while handing them a few pieces of parchment. “Corrupt Aurors and government officials. Scum, who’ve been killing Muggleborns for sport…. They’ve done in some good folks. Make sure you two to put an end to that.”

A small raging fire stoked in Grimm’s chest. Moody knew how she felt about people in power abusing their rank. It manifested like a dark claw tightly grasping around her heart. Something more sinister than what she usually expressed rose to the surface.

“They’re as bad as you can imagine. No need to take it easy on them,” Mad Eye drove the dagger home.

The leader of the Forgiven skimmed the list and then looked up at him. “I understand. Norse and I will handle it… But this thing with the Lestranges.”

“We will take every precaution,” Dumbledore assured her.

Grimm looked at the Headmaster like she didn’t believe him. “If you really want to take every precaution, maybe  _you_  should take the frontlines for this one.”

“Alas, I must tend to the school. Perhaps I can arrange some members from the old Order to assist.”

“I’m sure they will assign the best Aurors to the case. I can’t imagine Crouch doing otherwise,” Kingsley added.

“The Longbottoms would be more than willing.”

It felt as if Grimm’s insides were doused with cold water. The image of the kind couple floated into her mind. She tried to control the temper in her voice, but struggled.

“It doesn’t have to be them…! The Ministry would welcome your help!”

“Grimm!” Mad Eye’s voice interrupted her. “It is not Albus’s place.”

Kingsley walked over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“I will put my life towards making sure Frank and Alice come out this safe. I promise.”

“They can handle themselves. They’re damn good Aurors and we need all the strong wands we can get!” Moody growled.

Grimm was silent for a moment. “Mad Eye…Don’t let anything happen to them,” she said with a soft voice.

The gruffy man gave her a firm nod. “Enough chatter! We have to move quick before the group decides to change location. We all have our parts and the Forgiven don’t have one in this! I don’t like it much either, but we’ll work with the Ministry on this one.”

Although some were reluctant, everyone agreed on the next course of action.

The Forgivers were made their way towards the exit portkey with Liar. Before they left, Grimm called out.

“Liar.”

“Hm?”

“Be careful out there….”

Liar’s lips curled up ever so slightly.

…

“Gee. Thanks,” he parted with a sarcastic grin.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. We're Not Good People

** Chapter 9 – We’re Not Good People **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: Grimm and Liar found the Lestrange brothers, Bellatrix, and Crouch Jr. trying to revive Voldemort.  The Forgiven decide to leave the case to the Ministry in order to avoid drawing attention to their secret order. Liar joins Kingsley during the government’s raid on Voldemort’s castle. While Grimm and Norse are left to do…other work._

_._

_._

A man laid on the floor, quivering in fear.

He was relatively fit with a stature larger than the average person. Dressed in an extravagant purple evening cloak, he stared into the faces of the two teenage girls lording above him.

Both his attackers trained their wands over his heart. Eyes as distant as the moon observed his every movement, every subtle twitch. Though they were young, the man knew the look they possessed. It was the stare with the intent to kill. The Auror wondered what he had done to deserve a meeting with these angels of death.

He thought to run away, and winced when his hand pressed on the glass broken earlier.

The living room was a complete mess. He and the witches had fought briefly, but with one spell, the larger of the two had almost leveled the whole apartment floor. Her wand broke, but she quickly replaced it with another from her cloak pocket.

The wizard decided to make one last play for his life.

“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!”

“Quiet,” the smaller witch with blue streaked hair spoke. She seemed to be contemplate something. “You’ve done a lot of rather awful things, haven’t you?”

“I have done nothing of the sort!”

She pushed her wand closer.

“You really want to keep pretending with us? Well, let me refresh your memory. A collapsing building, a massive car crash, a terrorist bombing—sound familiar?”

“…….What do you want?”

“Subterfuge. Atrocities constructed by you, made to look like something else.”

“To keep our world from being exposed!”

“To cover your tracks, at the cost of countless Muggle lives!”

“….Is that what this is about?! Some Muggles no one gave a damn about?!”

“Say that again.”

The Auror blinked confused.

“Wha—?”

“I said, Say. That. Again….Please.”

“I don’t understand.”

Grimm rolled her eyes and jabbed him with her wand.

“Why did you kill so many of them? Why are you so guiltless? Why did you think you could get away with it?” she pressed.

“They were Muggles! No one gives a shit! The Ministry didn’t even care! They’re nonmagic folk!!!”

_“Crucio!”_

Grimm felt an inner darkness she usually kept locked, creep out. Something akin to a creature’s venom ran through her veins and into her wand. Hate and pain fed the curse and connected her to her victim.

In a single moment, the corrupt Auror felt his insides burn. Every muscle in his body tensed and he thought someone was stabbing countless needles all along his spine. It was the worst feeling he had ever experienced. Fortunately for him, the curse did not last long.

The pain ended abruptly. He took several desperate gasps upon being released. Once he recovered a bit, he directed his fury to the smaller witch, who was looking at her wand with a disappointed frown.

“Hm. He really pissed me off too, and it still didn’t work. You want to give it a go, Norse?” Grimm spoke with a casual tone.

**I’ve _been_ trying. Nothing.**

“Guess we’re just not cut out for the Cruciatus Curse.  Bit of a shame really.”

“I’LL HAVE YOU TORTURED AND KILLED, YOU LITTLE BITC—“the Auror began yelling, but midway through, Grimm shoved her wand in his mouth.

“Just so you know, some of the best people I know are Muggles,” she said with a sharp hiss. “My mother was one, as a matter of fact. Take a deep breath—then sing me your last words. I’m expecting something good.”

The man gulped.

“….PLEAS—“

_“Avada Kedavra.”_

A tiny green spark rolled from Grimm’s wand down the man’s throat, like an electric marble. The Auror’s eyes went wide with horror before rolling back completely.

_*Thump*_

His head hit the hollow wood floor with an unnerving thud.

And then, Grimm cast one more spell.

_“Reducto.”_

A flash of red brightened the room, and the body dissolved into nothing but dust.

Grimm and Norse then set to erasing all evidence of their presence, like following a procedure they had repeated a thousand times over. While doing the menial task, they chatted.

**Slaying these wurms is not very satisfying.**

“They’re corrupt officials who are used to punching down, Norse. It’s only natural they can’t put up a proper fight—focking scum pricks.”

**…Are you alright? You appeared overzealous before.**

Grimm shrugged.

“You may not feel satisfied, but taking these guys out and making sure they don’t harm any non-magi again? It _really_ puts a spring in my step.”

**Scary~** **♪**

“In a strange way, it’s kind of intoxicating. The keyword being ‘toxic’. Like, you know it’s bad for you, but you can’t help but enjoy it.”

 _Like a snake coiling from the pit of my stomach and sinking its fangs into my lungs. I breathe poison, but it’s a good taste. Is this what drug addicts feel, I wonder?_ Grimm thought.

It was something she felt often as of late. An unexplainable desire that made her sick to her stomach, but at the same time, brought her a mad kind of elation. She wanted to know the cause, to understand herself.

**I feel the same when the blood lust hits during battle. As if some primal urge were triggered. Blood in the water or the scent of wounded prey. I fight until I am bathed in it and do not wake from the frenzy till the deed is done.**

Norse wore a twisted smile on her face.

Grimm wasn’t sure how to react. Was she supposed to be upset? Guilty? Off-put by the way they were both acting?

The witch looked down at where the Auror’s body _used_ to lay.

“Witches and wizards who are supposed to _help_ people, but hurt them instead. Makes you wonder who the good guys really are. Not as if we can talk, though.”

**I do not believe we fall into that category. At least we are better than these wretches.**

“Still, as much as I hate them, it’s still not enough to trigger the Cruciatus Curse.”

**Perhaps it may be taken as a good omen.**

“I guess. Not dark enough, huh?” Grimm paused.  “I doubt that makes us good people, though.”

**…..I do not believe so either.**

Grimm took out the list of their targets and crossed the recently deceased Auror’s name off.

“If I’m being honest with myself, the only thing separating _us_ from _them_ is our actions. Personality-wise, we may be worse.” Grimm put a hand to her chin in thought. “‘Bad people’, huh? If these people are considered evil, hm. Doing bad shite to bad people doesn’t make us good, though. That’s just self-righteous bullshit.”

**The delusion of justice. Because I harm evil, I am the opposite, which is good. That is the lie most are inclined to believe. A lie _too many_ believe.**

“Suuuu~cks”

Norse smiled.

**Why must we speak of such philosophy?**

“I just need to know where I stand. I don’t want to be disillusioned.” Grimm picked her next words carefully. “I don’t want to lie about _what_ I am.”

Norse seemed to take her words to heart and nodded.

**In the end of all, the Forgiven are tasked with killing individuals. Ones, who seek to ruin peace and cause harm to the innocent, but they are lives taken nonetheless.**

**You and I are murderers and we _enjoy_ what we do. That is the cold truth of it. We believe the blade is the answer—and death, the price.**

Grimm closed her eyes and understood the poisonous feeling she was experiencing lately. The realization was a bit sad, but it also set her free of some burden.

She sighed and continued working.

“Wonder how the rest are doing.”

**I am sure Mad Eye and Kingsley are fighting admirably.**

“And Liar?”

**Peh! Who cares about that coward?**

“He’s still part of the team. We’re going to be in this for a long time. Getting along, at least a little, would be for the best.”

Norse only shrugged her shoulders.

**He and I will never work together. It is fine this way.**

_*Sigh*_ “Whatever. I just hope nothing stupid happens on their end.”

.

.

_“This is stupid!!”_

_“…I know…”_

Under an invisibility cloak, Liar voiced his complaints to Kingsley through Legilimens.

Both of them were currently waiting outside Voldemort’s old castle with a few Auror raiding parties. The Ministry officials were in the middle of preparations, and that left the two some time to talk. It also helped them take their minds off the cold pouring rain.

_“SO! STUPID! His orders are explicitly to bring those Death Eaters in alive at all costs?!” Liar exclaimed again._

_“That is what Crouch has ordered. They are high profile criminals. Living bodies make better PR than corpses. At least until_ after _the trial._

_Also it_ **is** _his son among them. It is not too surprising the Department Head would prefer a personal touch with this case.”_

_“You think he might rig the trial to get him released?”_

Kingsley shook his head.

_“It’s more likely Crouch wants to make a display of conviction. Show everyone he’s willing to take a hard stand against injustice, even if it’s in the form of his own son.”_

_“And an asshole like that may run the Ministry one day?”_

_“He comes on strong, but without people like him, the government would have long fallen to the Dark Lord.”_

_“Tch! It may sound less credible coming from one who is part of an illegal, covert, military covenant, but that doesn’t sound the makings of a good Minister during peace times.”_

_“We are in agreement on that.”_

_“Still, if he were in charge, I wonder if the Forgiven would cease to be a necessary measure. Our group may very well disband if Crouch were elected.”_

_“That…would be welcome.”_

They gave each other a sarcastic smile, though, Liar was invisible.

 _“Then again, if he gets too heavy handed with the punishments, the Forgiven might have a new target,”_ Liar mused.

_“Don’t even joke about that, Liar.”_

_“Who’s joking, Kingsley?”_

The boy’s words possessed a deeper meaning to them. Even if Liar was wearing the invisibility cloak, Kingsley could read into what the young wizard was feeling.

 _“You’ve seen us. What we’ve done, what we can do. Do you really believe_ anyone _is beyond our realm of targets, much less Barty Crouch? According to Dumbledore, the assassination of a power hungry Minister of Magic is_ **exactly** _something the Forgiven are capable of._

_We’re not good people, Kingsley. Just a different brand of dark than the Death Eaters in there….”_

The Auror wanted to say something, to refute the young man’s statement. Unfortunately, words failed him. Why was it so difficult to counter argue the point? Was it because deep down, he knew what Liar said was true?

_“Eyes on the prize, Kingsley. It seems their ludicrously, long preparation procedures are finally complete.”_

Liar’s words cut through the man’s concentration as two Aurors approached them. It was a middle aged man and woman. Both carried a certain sense of bearing in their demeanor. The kind of attitude that seasoned war veterans possessed.

“You alright, Kingsley? Look a little sick,” the man said.

“I’m fine, Frank. Pre-operation jitters.”

“I know what you mean. Something’s off about this whole thing. Guess it’s to be expected with you-know-who’s castle,” commented the woman.

“I’d like to thank you again for coming. You didn’t need to—either of you.”

“Please. If it’s you, Albus, and Moody asking us, how could we possibly say no? The Longbottoms stand with you. Don’t have any worries about that,” assured Frank Longbottom.

“It’s always bothered me that Bellatrix and the Lestranges might still be out here. The world will be a much safer place when we lock them up. A safer place for Neville as well…” Alice added.

Kingsley smiled at that.

“How is the boy?”

“Staying with my mother for the moment,” the father answered.

“Is your friend doing alright? It’s quite cold out here.”

Kingsley and Liar felt their lungs leap into their throats. Alice Longbottom was staring _right_ at the young wizard, who was currently hiding under an Invisibility Cloak.

“Come now. How many times have we seen Moody’s cloak? And it’s nowhere good as the one James had. Judging by how the rain’s falling, she or he looks to be in their teens?”

Frank and Alice “looked” at Kingsley and Liar with clever grins on their faces.

“We won’t say anything, of course. Knowing you, there must be some reason this one’s here. They won’t be joining us inside, will they?” Frank asked.

“…No. He won’t,” Kingsley answered.

“Good. No place for the young, this place.” Alice pulled out a piece of candy and handed it to Kingsley. “Give him that. It’s my last one and should help with the cold. We should be getting into position now. Join us soon?”

Kingsley nodded and watched the Longbottoms join their assigned raiding party. When they were sure they were out of sight and sound, he handed the boy the candy.

 _“I’m impressed,”_ Liar praised _. “Goes to show I need to cast additional concealment charms from now on. Who was that lovely couple?”_

_“Frank and Alice Longbottom. They were with us in the Order of the Phoenix.”_

_“’Zat so? Wow! This candy’s really good. Feels like a furnace in my mouth.”_ As Liar felt warmth flood through his skin, he stared pensively at the married couple. _“They seemed decent enough folk…I can see why Grimm is so protective of them.”_

_“Yes. They showed her a rare patience and kindness when she worked as an Auror.”_

_“Lucky kid whose ever got them for parents.”_

_“Indeed—Well, Liar, I’m off to join them.”_

_“Wait! You’re not leaving me back here, are you?”_

_“Pardon?”_

_“I’m coming with you!”_

_“I can’t take you with me, even if you can conceal yourself.”_

_“You don’t know this place like I do. There’s only so much I can help through Legilimens. And as soon as you’re in that barrier, there’s going to be interference.”_

_“Liar, I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger.”_

_“Enough with that! I know you all think I can’t handle myself in a fight but—“_

Liar suddenly stopped talking and began opening his senses. Kingsley furrowed his brow in concern.

_“Liar—?”_

_“Shhh! Something’s wrong!.....Something’s VERY WRONG….”_

Liar cut his mental connection with Kingsley to focus all his thoughts on his magic.

When he and Grimm previously infiltrated the castle, he left behind his own detection charms to use whenever he was within the vicinity. And then, when he arrived with Kingsley, the boy used the magic to confirm the Death Eaters’ presences. He had since then, been monitoring their movements until this moment.

“…They’ve taken out one of my detection charms! That’s impossible unless they knew it was there,” Liar said, panic setting in.

“Are we compromised?” Kingsley asked.

“Kingsley! They’ve Imperiused one of the commanding officers! They’ve _known_ we’ve been out here! Mad Eye’s raid division’s been ordered to move in!!”

“We have to warn them!”

“They’re attacking!! IT’S AN AMBUSH!!! THERE’S DEATH EATERS EVERYWHERE!!!”

“I will send word to Dumbledore.”

“HURRY!!”

_“Expecto Patronum!”_

A lynx composed of shining white mist shot up into the sky and disappeared above the clouds. As soon as the spell was finished, Liar grabbed Kingsley’s arm.

“The barrier’s down, I’m Apparating us in.”

Both of them were sucked into vacuum space and instantly reappeared in the castle’s courtyard.

The scene was complete anarchy. Fire and lightning strew across the air. Lights from all kinds of spells flashed and lit the dark building. Debris flew up and showered many of the combatants with rubble.

In the middle of it all was an unconscious Moody lying on his back bleeding.

_“CONFRINGO!”_

_“BOMBARDA DUO!”_

Kingsley and Liar crouched and blasted an Imperiused Auror off his feet.

The two ran to take cover behind one of the gargoyle statues littering the courtyard. The field was complete chaos as magi dueled each other without really knowing who was Imperiused and who wasn’t.

Taking full advantage of the situation was Bellatrix, the Lestranges, and Crouch Jr. The four Death Eaters took shelter in the alcove to the castle. From there, they sniped spells at any vulnerable and distracted targets. Only one pair of Aurors alone engaged them in a direct fight.

It was the Longbottoms.

The couple fought ferociously, while at the same time, defending Moody’s body.

Dodging the rogue spells flying around, Kingsley and Liar made their way over to them. When they reached their side, the young boy knelt beside Moody, while the Kingsley joined his cohorts in a three on four death match with the Death Eaters.

Liar moved his wand over Mad Eye’s body to determine his wounds. As part of the Forgiven’s training regimen, they were all fairly educated in the use of basic medical spells.

“How bad is he?!” Kingsley called back to him.

“Bad!”

_Emendo. Vulnera Sanentur. Reparifors. Discutere!_

Liar incanted a chain of healing spells and anti-curses in record time. Whenever he reached the end of the sequence, he cast them again to bolster their effects.

Another rogue spell blew the invisible cloak off him, but he paid no mind. Liar only concentrated on the dying man in front of him.

After a few critical seconds, the boy ceased his spells for a moment.

“I’ve stabilized him, but he’s not out of danger! He needs emergency medical treatment at St. Mungo’s!” Liar shouted.

“Then get him there!” Kingsley answered back.

“What about you?!”

“Mad Eye is a higher priority!”

“And let the same thing happen to you three?! I can fight—even the odds!”

_“We’ll be fine! Just take care of Moody!!”_

The one who spoke this time was Alice Longbottom. Even in the dire situation, the woman smiled at the boy, as if to assure him that everything would be alright. Her husband wore the same expression.

A wild spell ricocheted towards Liar, and Frank deftly moved to deflect it.

“Go on, boy!” he encouraged. “See to Mad Eye’s safety. We’re counting on you!”

Liar looked into the couple’s bright faces and hated himself. He could only think he was abandoning them in a time of need.

With a stiff nod, Liar laid a hand on Moody’s chest and concentrated on Disapparating. In the next second, they were gone.

A blinding white hallway irritated his eyes as it was a sharp contrast from the dark, raining courtyard. Liar heard doctors and nurses scream, and grabbed the closest one.

“He needs emergency treatment. The man has deep lacerations and is under tier three cursing. He might have been hit with something else, but I don’t know,” Liar pleaded desperately.

Without waiting for a response, the boy Apparated back to the battlefield….

Or at least he meant to.

While slipping through the space between locations, Liar found himself unable to cross back into the courtyard.

_Did they reactivate the barrier?!?!_

He Apparated as close as he could and had no choice, but to sprint the rest of the way. After running for some excruciating minutes, he finally came upon the familiar plaza. The battle had grown more chaotic than he last saw it.

More Death Eater reinforcements were summoned since he was away, and were slaughtering the Ministry’s Aurors.

Liar cast his concealing enchantments and moved amongst the duelists. As he weaved through them, he finally reached where he left Kingsley and the Longbottoms.

_“Crucio!”_

Bellatrix locked the Cruciatus Curse on Alice, who was one of the handful still standing. Though now, the woman fell over, convulsing with pain. Rudolphus Lestrange stepped forward to deliver the finishing blow.

_“Stupefy!”_

The Death Eater knocked Alice unconscious and their party moved over their defeated foes. Sinister expressions clouded the faces of Bellatrix, the Lestranges, and Crouch.

At seeing this, Liar raised his wand with an intent to kill.

He released his concentration on his concealment charms and readied to invoke the Killing Curse. As he appeared a certain distance from his adversaries something peculiar happened. One of them looked at the boy, not with a sense of hostility, but of fondness.

“Lynus…..?” Rabastan called out to him. “You’re alive?”

The words formed without thought. Even if Liar wanted to stop them from escaping, he couldn’t. Like something echoing from a long cavern. A deep seated memory awoke from its sleep.

“Father,” Liar muttered.

…

“Thank goodness. I thought the Ministry had you!” Rabastan rejoiced.

“Why—What…?”

“Quickly! You must come with us!”

“We have to go _now,_ Rabastan!” his brother yelled, and then turned to Liar. “Lynus! Meet us at the safe house on the cliff!”

And with those words, the group of Death Eaters disappeared with Kingsley and the Longbottoms.

Liar was left at a complete loss.

Rabastan was his father?

They called him Lynus.

So many thoughts raced through his mind that he felt overwhelmed by it all.

The Longbottoms. Kingsley.

_I failed them._

Moody was injured.

_I FAILED THEM!!_

Before he realized it, Liar looked up.

Without thinking, he had maneuvered himself back to the Forgiven’s base. Norse and Grimm were running towards him. They could already tell something had gone terribly wrong.

Liar tried to find the words, but he only babbled incomprehensibles. He didn’t know what to do, or think, or say.

….

_“I’m sorry.”_

_….._

_“I’m sorry.”_

Only regret cycled his thoughts.

**_“I’m so sorry.”_ **


	10. The Wizard Named Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New light sheds on the dark past of the Forgiven Wizard named Liar.

** Chapter 10 – A Wizard Named Liar **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: The raid to capture Bellatrix, the Lestranges, and Barty Crouch Jr. backfired. Moody was severely injured, Kingsley and the Longbottoms were captured. At the end of the battle, Liar was suddenly called “Lynus” by Rabastan Lestrange, and was referred to as his son._

_._

_._

_(In the Forgiven’s underground base)_

.

Norse lifted Liar by his collar and punched him so hard his jaw came loose.

The young boy fell to the floor, his eyes vacant of any will to resist. Inside, he felt he deserved much worse; wishing Norse had hit him harder.

The blonde witch burned with anger as she pulled back to hit him again, but Grimm grabbed her fist before it could fly.

“Enough! This isn’t the time to be fighting among ourselves!”

**This coward left Kingsley to the worst Death Eaters imaginable! How many times will this bastard abandon his allies?!**

“I said that’s enough, Norse!” Grimm turned to Liar. “You! Come with me right now. We need to talk.”

Liar was set down, and followed the blue haired witch with a vacant demeanor. The two moved out of sight of the raging Norse, who took to blowing apart practice dummies as an outlet for her anger. Once they had privacy, Grimm pointed her wand at Liar’s mouth.

_“Emendo.”_

Liar’s jaw realigned with a painful crack.

As soon as he was healed, Grimm drew her fist back and knocked his jaw loose again. The boy fell hard, hitting the back of his head against the wall. When Liar looked up, Grimm was aiming her wand at his eye.

“I have half a mind to do something I’ll regret. Tell me what the hell happened. How did they take Kingsley?!

Liar only shook his head.

“Norse is right…I abandoned them. Even that Longbottom couple. They make quite an impression…”

“Alice and Frank…!” Grimm’s expression filled with fear. “Enough with this self-pity crap! I don’t give a damn about that. You need to tell me where they went so we can go get them!!”

_“Your part in this is over.”_

The two turned around and saw Dumbledore observing the whole spectacle. Grimm was surprised for a moment, but that feeling quickly turned into anger. She stalked towards the aged wizard and stopped just short of slugging him.

“This is on you!! I _told_ you to go with them! I said not to bring the Longbottoms into this!!”

“I take full responsibility for my actions, but now is the time for cooler heads to prevail,” Dumbledore said calmly.

“We’re going to save Kingsley and Alice and Frank!”

“I will be working with the Ministry to find them.”

“And that’s all worked well so far, when we leave things to the government!”

“I am invoking my rights as **Forgiver**. You are hereby ordered not to pursue this matter any further.”

Dumbledore’s words echoed in a different way than they had before. It was as if the sound of his voice caused the Forgiven’s bones to rattle uncontrollably.

Grimm felt her organs stop functioning for a second. The Unbreakable Vows the Forgiven were under activated. If she continued disobeying Dumbledore, her life would become forfeit.

“Damn you…! You focking—!!“

Liar grabbed Grimm before she could attack him. Norse saw what was going on and helped in holding Grimm back. As she struggled with containing her leader, golden letters appeared before the Headmaster’s spectacles.

**Please, sir. You _must_ let us go after them! Kingsley is one of us. A comrade by blood!**

But Dumbledore merely shook his head.

“I will return when the matter is settled. Until then, you three are to remain here. This is an order from a Forgiver.”

Grimm, Norse, and Liar flinched at the Unbreakable Vows being called upon again. It was as if steel threads were cutting deep into their skin. If the three were to move against them, their bodies would be sliced apart.

Without another word, Dumbledore moved to the portkey and exited the base.

“DAMN IT!!!”

Grimm drove her hand into the concrete floor and shattered the small bones in her hand. Blood leaked down between her fingers, but the pain did nothing to abate her wrath.

Liar gently took her hand and began healing it. She tried to pull away, but Norse held her arm in place until the wizard finished mending it. When her knuckles repaired, Grimm angrily stood and looked at them.

“We’re going.”

**We cannot disobey Dumbledore’s orders.**

“Fock Dumbledore! There has to be some sort of loophole in the Vows.”

**He has carefully crafted them to make sure there are not. It is foolproof.**

Grimm fumed and turned to Liar.

“Come on! I know you’ve got something up your sleeve! You always say you have a backup plan for your backup plans. What were you going to do if you ever needed to go against the Unbreakable Vows?”

Liar was still struggling with his internal conflicts that he couldn’t answer Grimm straight away. His face twisted as he argued with himself on what to do.

Ultimately, he was sure of at least one thing.

He wanted to save Kingsley and the Longbottoms no matter what it took. They had treated him so warmly. He could not refuse to answer their affections. Even the married couple who he knew so briefly.

Liar’s dead look turned into one of determination.

He stared at Grimm.

“There’s only one way available to us,” he said with a strained voice.

After his explanation, Grimm pointed her wand to the ceiling.

…

_“Expecto Patronum!”_

.

.

In a patient room of St. Mungo’s Hospital, Moody slept under the heavy influence of painkillers.

All was peaceful, until a loud bang caused the room’s walls to tremor.

The old Auror woke up with a start and saw a silver wisp fox standing over his bed. He immediately recognized the Patronus as Grimm’s. To confirm it further, the misty animal began speaking with her voice.

“Kingsley and the Longbottoms have been taken. We’re going after them. Dumbledore’s ordered us to stay here, in the base. He plans to work with the Ministry, but it’ll be too late by the time they make any headway.”

The fox’s paws stepped lightly closer.

“We can get them, Mad Eye! This is a job for the Forgiven. Dumbledore’s invoked Unbreakable Vows to keep us in place, but YOU can give an order to _countermand_ it.”

There was a break in the Patronus’ speech.

…..

“Please, Mad Eye. If any one of us is worth saving, it’s Kingsley.

And Frank and Alice…They don’t deserve any of this.”

…

“I’m begging you.”

The Patronus fox wept, portraying the innermost emotions of the caster at the time of its recording. Moody reached a scarred hand towards the animal, but it vanished after relaying its message.

He thought hard on what to do next. He never had any reason to doubt Dumbledore’s actions, but he did not deny the fact his old friend had a streak for making cruel decisions.

In the dark room, Moody closed his eye and pondered deeply for a good hour. He tried not to let the medication cloud his judgment and fought off the urge to sleep. The Auror acknowledged he had failed his part, and contemplated risking the Forgiven to experience the same.

He opened his eye and spoke to three teenagers who weren’t really there.

“By my order as Forgiver…”

.

.

_(In the underground base)_

.

As the three waited for a message from Mad Eye, Liar was deciding something on his end. Sitting with his back against the wall, his soul was in a constant state of conflict.

Should he tell them Rabastan Lestrange was his father? About everything he knew? Would they believe him if he said why he didn’t recognize them until then?

_They may think I’m a traitor. They already hate me._

_My own father…_

_Why am I so angry?_

_I don’t understand!!_

_I still don’t have all the pieces!_

“Liar. What is it?” Grimm came up beside him.

“Huh?”

“You’re shaking.”

The boy looked down at his trembling right hand, and then held it with his left.

“…I see. Rather embarrassing.”

“What is it?”

Liar smirked at the genuine concern Grimm showed.

“Are you worried? Not too long ago, you and Norse wanted to take my head off.”

“Bigger fish, Liar. Bigger fish. We can hash it all out once we get Kingsley back and make sure the Longbottoms are safe.”

“Yeah. You’re right about that.”

“That’s why I need you here. All of you. Can’t have you distracted. So tell me what’s going on up there?”

Liar closed his eyes.

His heart ached and he took a deep breath before speaking again.

“……You ever wanted to run away from something? So badly you just…” His words caught in his throat for a moment. “…you’d throw away everything you once were—everything you once knew? And I mean _everything_. Not some superficial, ‘A new day, a new me’ kind of optimistic foolishness.” He shook his head. ”I don’t know… Just forget about all the things in your life, good and bad. Like to get rid of the bad, you had to get rid of the good too. Like EVERYTHING….—“

Liar frowned at how vague and stupid it all sounded.

“Ugh!! Blast it! This doesn’t make a lick of sense now that I’m saying it. I’m sorry. Just forge—“

As Liar held the sides of his head, a gentle hand touched his shoulder. Surprisingly, Grimm had a dead serious expression on her face. As if she were reading exactly what was behind Liar’s words.

“ _Go on…_ ” she ushered him. “I’m listening.”

Her voice sounded softer than Liar had ever heard it. The boy took a heavy gulp and continued.

“Right. Where was I? Throw away everything?  And I _mean_ everything. Just drop all of it and run away as far and as fast as you could. You ever thought things were so bad, that life was so unbearable that you just wanted—!!”

He choked on his words.

“Just wanted……..”

Liar’s voice trailed off.

…..

“… _Oblivion_ ,” Grimm finished.

Liar stared wide eyed at her.

“Yes…….To forget it all and start anew….” Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes. “Course, it didn’t work. I still did what I always do. I ran away….”

“Liar…”

“….”

“……….You’ve Obliviated your own memories.”

Liar shivered and nodded in confirmation. He pulled his knees in and hid his head in them. Quiet sobs escaped the wizard.

Grimm reached her hand out. She hesitated, but began patting his back as the boy shook.

“I understand the feeling, Liar. More than I’d like to admit.”

“What…?”

“The three of us wouldn’t be here if we weren’t screwed up in some way. I’ll tell you my own story another time, but you need to get some things off your chest, right?”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Liar said, wiping his tears and snot. “Not fair I’m the only one who’s a bloody mess.”

“Yeah, s’pose so.”

“Be a dear and call Norse over. Saves having to tell the same story twice.”

Grimm nodded and went over to the glowing witch practicing her spells.

_We’re all screwed up, is it?_

_Maybe it’s because of that we can see each other with such clarity._

_..._

_We don’t have to pretend how broken we are._

_Or more accurately—we don’t have the ability to._

As Liar thought on how to explain it to them, he first needed organize the thoughts himself. His memories were a jumble and many interpretations had to be drawn from them. The whole picture was far from clear.

He closed his eyes and recalled his short dialogue with his “father”. Liar most likely called out to him through pure physical memory than thought. It was an example of the phrase, “The mind forgets, but the body remembers”.

Liar sank back to the earliest memories he could recall…

.

.

_(One Year Ago)_

_._

The boy awoke in a prison cell.

At first, he was calm. Maybe due to his low blood pressure, he had a difficult time finding an edge right after he woke up.

He scanned his stone cell, seeing the basic bed and toilet, and then his gaze finally resting on the steel bars. Lynus grabbed them and peered down the prison hall.

He could see every inmate bore the Dark Mark on their forearm. The boy immediately looked down and saw that he too possessed the same skull and snake tattoo. Though his memories were a complete blank, he _knew_ what the Dark Mark was and what it meant.

He was a Death Eater.

….

_What?!_

_…_

_Wh–Who the hell am I?!?!_

Lynus tried desperately to recall anything past waking up in his cell and found nothing. He looked back to where he was sleeping and saw a wand. The wizard picked it up and began analyzing it.

It was not his wand. Instinct told him that he had nicked it off one of the guards.

Before he could process the situation any further, he and a number of Death Eaters were led out of their cells and put in front of a Ministry court.

The one acting as judge was Barty Crouch Sr.

One by one, the prisoners stood at the podium to hear the crimes they were accused of. There were tears, a lot of yelling. Sometimes the ones on trial offered names and information to gain pardons.

Eventually, it was Lynus’s turn to take the stand.

“Lynus Lestrange. Death Eater. Multiple counts of theft, Assault, illegal espionage, embezzling funds, trafficking dangerous and illegal artifacts, longtime supporter of he-who-must-not-be-named. Do you have anything to offer the court?” Crouch’s voice possessed a clearly accusing tone.

“Uhh—“

“If not, I hereby sentence you—“

“Wait! Hold on a second!!” Lynus cried.

The boy dug into his pocket and found a piece of paper. On it, was a list of names with the top labeled: **Death Eaters**. Apparently, his pre-Obliviated self attempted to leave behind a lifeline.

Lynus held the small piece of parchment out for the bailiff to take. The Ministry worker threw him a dirty look and reluctantly took the paper to Crouch. The Department Head gave a quick read through and turned his attention back to Lynus.

“Unfortunately, we are already aware of the Death Eaters you have attempted to name. A pardon will not be granted.”

The boy’s stomach plummeted.

“Lynus Lestrange, you are hereby sentenced to Death or Life Sentence in Azkaban.”

“You can’t be serious!!!”

_“If I may, your honor.”_

Everyone in the court looked in the direction of the gruffy sounding voice.

“The boy is young and has committed no acts of murder,” Mad Eye proclaimed. “Are petty crimes and his brand as a Death Eater enough to warrant the sentence?”

“He has committed no acts of murders _we know of_ , Auror Moody.”

“My sources have informed me the boy’s part in the Dark Lord’s army was something of a ‘treasurer’ than soldier.”

Crouch gave Mad Eye a threatening look and banged his gavel.

“Death Penalty or Life Sentence. Take him away.”

Lynus was shoved off the podium and back into his cell, while the trials resumed like business as usual.

Moody sat down and turned to Dumbledore beside him.

“There’s something off about that one. Not a Death Eater like the others. He also has some odd talents. Might prove damn useful for the Forgiven.”

The wizened wizard stroked his beard thoughtfully and nodded.

That night, the two visited Lynus in his prison cell. The boy told them all about how he Obliviated his own memories. After listening to his situation, Dumbledore and Moody made him an offer to join the Forgiven. Lynus practically jumped at the chance like a drowning man to a lifesaver.

When the two left, the young wizard sank into thought.

He didn’t know how to describe it, but a great feeling of dread clouded his mind every time he tried to remember the reason he erased his memories. On a subconscious level, Lynus knew his life must have been a disaster since the moment he was born. Only something traumatizing could have motivated him to give up on his own “existence”.

_So life was such pits I ran away, huh? How irresponsible is that?_

_…._

_Well, technically speaking—it would be the_ other _one…wouldn’t it?_

_I mean…._

_SHITE!_

He curled up in the middle of his cold cell, and wept.

_This sucks so much…_

-

The next day, Moody and Dumbledore snuck Liar out to the Underground Base. There, he officially signed on with their secret covenant, and was asked to make his mark in an old tome.

He set the pen down on the ancient parchment, but couldn’t move it.

_They said my name was Lynus…_

_But that one ran away. He wanted to be forgotten._

_If I’m not him, who am I?_

_…_

_A lie._

_…_

In the book, the young wizard signed his new name.

**_Liar_ **

 


	11. Undoing Oblivion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With bad jokes and sarcasm in the face of death, the Forgiven begin their battle with the Death Eaters.

** Chapter 11 – Undoing Oblivion **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: Dumbledore ordered Grimm, Liar, and Norse from rescuing Kingsley with the Unbreakable Vows. In response, the Forgiven sent a message to Mad Eye, asking him to countermand it. Meanwhile, Liar reveals that he Obliviated his own memories prior to joining The Forgiven._

_._

_._

“Norse…!! As much as I appreciate the thought, I can feel my rib cage collapsing on itself…!”

The large glowing witch had tears in her eyes as she suffocated Liar in a tight embrace.

What brought on the sudden surge of affection was the wizard’s telling of his past, or lack thereof. The boy confessed everything to his teammates. He also revealed the parting words his father, Rabastan Lestrange, left him before they disappeared with Kingsley and the Longbottoms.

Grimm leaned back on the wall with her arms crossed. She thought deeply on what she just heard.

“’Safe house by the cliff’,” she repeated. “Don’t suppose you remember where that is?”

“No. I’ve been trying to recall anything related, but all I can summon is a big, fat blank.”

“Shite. Never easy, is it?”

“Perhaps I could better recollect, if you could _get Norse off of me—!”_

Liar’s legs dangled helplessly off the floor, while his blonde teammate continued to suffocate him.

“You wanted to get along with us, right? You should just enjoy your wish being granted.”

“Would this be an inopportune time to tell you I fibbed all that?”

“Ill-advised considering Norse has you in a bear hug.”

“Okay, I believe that’s my bladder she’s crushing now. I will be urinating shortly.”

Norse immediately dropped him to the floor.

“Honestly, if I knew telling you two about my… _condition_ would have won your sympathies, I might’ve done it sooner.” Liar stood up and began brushing himself off. “Feels rather underhanded, though. To abuse my tragic past to gain your friendship. If I didn’t have some dramatic excuse, it’s likely your attitude towards me would have remained unchanged.”

“When we gain a greater understanding of each other, we open ourselves to change. That can be for the worse, or the better. In this case, I think you should just be happy it’s for the better. Forget about what’s fair and what’s an excuse. The important thing is we’re on working terms.”

“Well, I’m not about to argue with that.”

**You are still a coward, but I am willing to accept your weaknesses.**

“That is all I could ever ask for.”

Norse began hugging Liar again.

“Guh! She’s a bit like—! A giant puppy…isn’t she?!”

Grimm smiled.

“Come on, Norse. Let him go. Now that that’s out of the way, it’s time we get to the business at hand.”

“We need to get my memories back. At least the ones pertaining to the safe house they mentioned,” Liar groaned.

**Is that possible?**

“Anything is possible if we are optimistic, stupid, and naïve enough!”

**If that is jest, it does not bode well with the situation, Liar.**

“I see our warm fuzzy moment of camaraderie is over. Good. I was beginning to chaff under all that. But yes, recalling Obliviated memories is possible. Dangerous and dreadful process, but _possible_. A risk I am willing to undertake.”

 **How noble~** **♪** , Norse wrote sarcastically.

“Don’t make me blush. There are _two_ primary ways to do it. One, is by experiencing excruciating amounts of pain, usually…the Cruciatus Curse.”

**_CRUCIO!_ **

Liar flinched at the sudden spell attempt, but felt no trace of its effects. He and Grimm threw Norse a narrow eyed look. Norse only shrugged with a it-was-worth-a-try smirk.

“ _Which none of us can perform_. Especially after you made us feel all sorry for you,” Grimm commented.

 _*Ahem_ * “So brings us to our secondary, more accurate method: Legilimency.”

“Shite. Can’t we just have Norse repeatedly and affectionately bludgeon you till you remember?”

“Unfortunately, we are short on time o’ great and kind leader, who cares deeply for our well-beings. And since Norse is inept in the ways of mind magic, it is _you_ who will have to navigate yourself through my mind.”

Grimm breathed a heavy sighed. The witch moved over to Liar, uncrossed her arms, and drew her wand.

“I’ll try not to make you a vegetable then.”

“That would be much appreciated, as I hate vegetables. Steer clear of any embarrassing memories and blackmail material, if you would be so kind.”

“I make no such promises,” Grimm snickered.

“Norse, be ready to kill me if it becomes necessary.”

**Kill you?!**

“There’s no telling what he might be like after sifting through his memories. It’s possible his pre-Obliviated self, who _is_ an actual Death Eater, might attack us,” Grimm explained.

“Precisely.”

Norse looked at them both with a conflicted expression, but nodded all the same.

**I understand. I will grant you a quick and painless death should you awake insane.**

“A warm and comforting thought, if there ever was one. Oh, yes. And hey. Both of you…” Liar shifted his eyes embarrassingly. “Thank you…..If this is to be the last time _‘I’_ see you. Well—you know.”

All three went silent for a moment.

“Shut up, you big baby. You’ll be fine.”

Norse and Grimm gave him a soft shove.

**Have confidence, Liar. We will not fail you.**

“…………Hurry up and do it before I start sobbing like an idiot again.”

Grimm smirked and pointed her wand at Liar’s head.

_“Legilimens.”_

.

.

Grimm wasn’t sure how long she had been there.

Like an interactive video tape, she walked through Liar’s memories as they fast forward and rewound at random. Dark mists would swell and take the form of people and buildings. They reconstructed, dissolved, swirled into storms, and then dissolved again. It was a maddening experienced that tested one’s sanity.

On most occasions, Grimm brandished her wand and helped the memories take form. Sometimes, they took hours, or even days. But slowly, bit by bit, the pieces began to fit together like jigsaw puzzles.

After certain recollections were repaired, they broke down almost immediately after viewing them. A few stayed in place, even after Grimm finished her work. It seemed the stronger memories were the more vivid ones.

_I wonder how much Liar will remember once I’m done here._

She was learning much about his past.

Apparently the young wizard had been a Death Eater since the moment he was born. Liar never attended school as a child. His father deemed it a waste of time. Instead, he was put to work as soon as he could walk and speak. Since he was too young to take part in battle, the Death Eaters had him deal with monetary issues, or work as thief and spy.

_Explains why he’s such a good sneak with a warped personality. Not that I’m one to talk about other people’s childhoods._

As Grimm continued to wade through the memories, sometimes the mind’s host himself would appear and guide her. Liar would take the form of a wisp of light bouncing down a street to a conversing group of people. Sometimes he was a lizard perched on the right street sign or the right rooftop in Knockturn Alley to watch something unfold.

Eventually, Grimm found a fragmented memory that was most unusual compared to the ones she’d come across before.

In an empty lot, a suspended tornado of splinters floated slowly through the air. The witch didn’t understand what she was seeing and tried to decipher the hovering debris.

On closer inspection, it turned out they were all extremely small fragments of a whole house.

As she touched some of them and attempted to join a few pieces together, Liar’s lizard form perched himself on her shoulder. His voice rang clear in Grimm’s mind.

**_This is it….This is the reason I Obliviated my memories._ **

Grimm looked at the green creature on her shoulder and then at the shattered recollection.

_It doesn’t have anything to do with the safe house._

**_No. It does not._ **

_….Do you want to remember? I can help you reconstruct it. Time seems meaningless in this place, so we have the moments to spare._

**_I’m afraid of what I might find._ **

For a while, Grimm waited for a clear response. With a minimal nod from her small companion, the two began working on the memory…

_This is like really shitty Tetris._

**_What is Tetris?_ **

_Never mind. We’re almost finished. I’ll show you when we’re done with this mess. I think you’d like it._

Ever so slowly, the last pieces of the house fell together like bricks sliding into position.

The two then watched the memory play out…

…

…

…

**_Oh…_ **

_You okay?_

**_Not really._ **

_No, I suppose you wouldn’t be._

**_It is fine. Let us be off to the safe house already. Ironic as it may be, I find my own mind to be not so comforting a place._ **

_I doubt anyone likes revisiting their most traumatic memories. Especially the embarrassing ones. I mean really! The other thing with the…_

**_AHHHH LA LA LA LA LA!!_ **

_That was hilarious._

**_When you see something particularly embarrassing, the proper response is to pretend like you didn’t see it!_ **

**_In any case, it seems putting together that memory was the key to unlocking a great deal many of them._ **

_Good to know even_ that _one served some purpose._

**_Yes….Indeed._ **

Grimm gave the lizard a sympathetic look and pet his small head.

_….You’re not going to Obliviate your memories again, are you?_

**_…._ **

**_No. I believe I find myself a tad tired of running away. Better to just leave it all as is. Besides, the Death Eater memories we’ve unlocked may prove useful for future endeavors._ **

Grimm nodded and stared at the reconstructed memory of Lynus’s mother standing in front of his old house. She was a simple woman with humble looks and clothes. Nothing one would expect of a Death Eater or the wife of one. Just a round face and a homely smile.

_Norse and I are here for you. We won’t abandon you. I’d make an Unbreakable Vow to promise that._

She couldn’t tell if the reptile was smiling, but felt like he was.

**_I would extend the same promise to the both of you._ **

.

.

Outside of Liar’s mind, only a few minutes had passed.

Norse watched over her companions like a sentinel. Her wand aimed at Liar, never dropping for a moment. She wondered how much longer it would take.

Suddenly, she saw their chests heave.

Grimm and Liar took a deep breath of fresh air and opened their eyes. Both of them acted like they had just taken a long dive underwater and were coming up to the surface for the first time in a long time.

“You can put the wand away, Norse. He’s good,” Grimm waved her off.

**You did not go insane?**

“Nope. I remain myself, I believe?”

**Did you obtain the location to the safe house?**

“Why, yes, we did. A dear old family villa in the middle of bloody nowhere. All we require now is—“

The three of them looked up with a start.

They could hear Moody’s voice calling to them from a distance. At the same time, the Forgiven felt something akin to a gale course through them. When the wind-like sensation passed, they found a certain weight lifted from their joints.

 They all understood what it meant.

Moody had countermanded Dumbledore’s orders.

“Thanks, Mad Eye,” Grimm whispered.

**Fortune smiles on us.**

“But for how long, I wonder. With so much going well, we’re likely to arrive at the hideout and find Kingsley dead,” Liar joked.

“That _would_ put a dampener on all the _wonderful_ things happening so far.” She started untying and retying her ponytail. “Time to go. Liar, take us there.”

“You got it, boss. Bodyslide for three.”

**For blood and war!**

Liar grasped Grimm and Norse’s shoulders and Disapparated them.

.

.

On the edge of a cliff standing high above the shore below, was the Lestrange family villa.

The vacation house had been thoroughly modified since its original construction, and now stood as a fortress rather than a getaway home. Formidable walls surrounded the complex and watch towers were erected at each corner of the estate. Along with physical defenses, the villa possessed layers of magical security constructed by the owners, and even some by Liar himself in the past.

Usually absent of all life, Bellatrix, the Lestranges, and Crouch Jr. had populated the fortress with Death Eaters. They knew a great battle with the Ministry was soon to come and made the necessary preparations for a perfect siege defense.

While the Death Eaters waited, the four leaders decided to busy themselves with the prisoners in the dungeon.

Kingsley sat in his cell, chained up to a wall. He looked on helplessly at the scene unfolding in front of him.

“ _Crucio!!”_ Bellatrix cackled with insane glee. Her wand pointed at the witch lying on the floor.

Alice Longbottom had long lost her ability to scream. Her vocal cords ripped hours ago, as only noiseless, painful gasps escaped her. The woman’s nails were torn off and bloody from scratching the stone floor. Even in the gaps between Bellatrix’s casting, Alice’s muscles no longer relaxed. They had flared so repeatedly that every fiber of flesh was frayed like broken twine.

Her husband, Frank, was experiencing torture more mental than physical, but just as intense. Rudolphus was his tormentor.

The Longbottom experienced imbalanced levels of emotions and thought. Hallucinations, which simulated unrealistic methods of torture. At the moment, he felt as if his body was being roasted over a giant fire, but freezing, cold water boarded him from above.

The couple had been exposed to the Cruciatus Curse for hours on end. There was no rhyme or reason to it. At first, the torturers sought information: intel on the Ministry, the Aurors, and even suspected they might hold a clue to Voldemort’s resurrection. But as the interrogation went on, it became clear the prison wardens only wanted the couple to suffer for their own sick amusement.

Kingsley pleaded to take the places of either of them. He screamed the words until his voice went hoarse. Bellatrix and Rudolphus only watched the cries with twisted joy. It seemed letting him see the two people he swore to protect suffer was its own torture.

Also in the dungeon, Rabastan and Crouch Jr. had joined the “interrogation”, but only briefly. They opted to observe instead, concentrating more on the impending battle with the Ministry than the suffering of their prisoners. They considered if worse came to worse, the Longbottoms and Kingsley could be used as hostages.

_*Toom!*_

A distant tremor sent dust falling from the ceiling.

The four Death Eaters turned their eyes up and tried to tap into the villa’s security charms. When they found they couldn’t, Rudolphus and Crouch Jr. went upstairs to investigate. Their first thoughts were the Ministry had arrived, but it wouldn’t explain how they had penetrated the defenses so quickly.

Rudolphus grabbed hold of one of the Death Eaters running through the villa and demanded an explanation.

“You! What is going on here?! Is it the Ministry?!”

“We don’t know, sir! Someone’s sabotaged the security enchantments!!”

“That’s impossible! How many are there?!”

“The reports are mixed. Some say there is one assailant, while others say there’s a whole squadron.”

“One lone magus couldn’t have done all of this. Alright. What we’re going to do is—“

But before Rudolphus could finish giving out his orders, another Death Eater ran to them. The cloaked witch was out of breath and sweating profusely.

“What is it now?!”

“Sir! Magical Law Enforcement have appeared in the nearby village. They will arrive here in a few hours.”

“So the attack right now _isn’t_ the Ministry? What in blazes is going on?!”

“More of the security enchantments are being sabotaged. If this continues, by the time the government gets here, we’ll hardly stand a chance!”

“Alright! TRACK DOWN THE INTRUDERS AT ONCE! Be wary! There is likely at least ten or twenty of them running around here!!” Rudolphus barked.

_The truth of it was there were only three._

\--------------


	12. Black Blooded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Forgiven launch a daring assault on a Death Eater fortress to rescue Kingsley Shacklebot and the Longbottoms

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: Liar regained all of his memories, which include the location of where Kingsley and the Longbottoms were being held. Meanwhile, the captured Aurors are tortured by the Lestranges and Crouch Jr._

_._

_._

_(At Ministry Headquarters)_

_._

Dumbledore and Crouch Sr. worked desperately to locate the captured Aurors. They summoned all the manpower they had at their disposal. Workers on their day off, the Order of the Phoenix’s former members, even retired law enforcement answered the call. Three of their best had been taken, and they were no short on zeal when it came to getting them back.

Perhaps on poor judgment, Crouch Sr. remained insistent they avoid using lethal measures. Some voiced dissenting opinions, but the doubts vanished in the face of more pressing problems.

In the middle of all the rushing and message sending, a strange, white mist flickered in front of Dumbledore’s vision and then slipped away.

After making sure no one was paying attention, the old wizard entered an empty office. The silver wisp appeared before him, taking a more condensed form.

It was a penguin Patronus belonging to Norse. And instead of talking, the bird fell on its belly and began sliding through the air, shining words appeared to spell out Norse’s message.

Dumbledore followed the letters with a frown. He had to stop himself from giving a Forgiver’s order to force them to return to base. The message read by the time he received the Patronus, the Forgiven would be well on their way to rescuing Kingsley, and deep inside a Death Eater fortress. It would have carried more risk to call them back now.

With a heavy sigh Dumbledore read the last part of the letter, which detailed the villa’s location.

Before he went to notify Crouch, he whispered a few words to three individuals who weren’t in the room.

“I invoke my right as Forgiver and hereby order the Forgiven to…”

.

.

_(Outside the Lestrange Villa)_

.

**I don’t see anything.**

Norse’s words floated by.

“That would be the work of a modified Fidelius Charm. Only those who’ve been to the villa can see it or enter the premises,” Liar answered.

**Annoying scum Death Eater who crafted such cowardice.**

“That would be me, but yes, thank you for the compliments.”

The Forgiven spied on the Death Eater stronghold from behind a small hill a few hundred feet away. It was as close as they could get while avoiding detection.

“Grimm, how about you?” Liar asked.

Their leader shook her head.

“Even though I saw it in your memories, and walked inside it, the charm still works. Can’t see a damn thing, much less enter.”

“The hard way it is, I suppose. Await my signal.”

And with that, Liar Disapparated and reappeared within the fortress grounds. He cast all manner of concealment charms and stealthily maneuvered himself through the villa. After scouting the positions of the patrolling Death Eaters, he found a spot with the least amount of presence. Once in position, he contacted Grimm and Norse.

_“North East section. Aim for the rippling part. You must be quick. The barrier will regenerate shortly after.”_

_“Got it,” Grimm responded._

The plan was to have Liar weaken the shield from the inside, while Grimm and Norse attacked from the outside. With simultaneous spells on both ends, the protective charm for the section would fail momentarily. In the time it took the shield to regenerate, the two witches would rush in before it closed.

Grimm turned to Norse and tossed her a broom.

“We get one crack at this. Fly like hell and cast your best spell.”

**I have just the one.**

On his end, Liar pointed his wand up.

_“Finite Incantem.”_

A colorless thread flowed from the wizard’s wand to the shield above. When the string made contact, the invisible bubble covering the villa began to ripple.

The waves were sighted by Grimm and Norse, and they quickly mounted their brooms. The two bolted up and made fast for the barrier. As the witches flew at break neck speed, they concentrated on the spells they would unleash.

Grimm noticed Norse falling behind and looked back at her. The glowing witch was drawing something intricate in the air that appeared to be an ancient rune. Before Grimm could ask her what she was doing, Norse finished the “inscription”.

She touched the middle of the hammer-like emblem with her wand, and the design dispersed. The wand in her hand instantly crackled with electricity and splintered into nothing. Shortly after, the symbol Norse had drawn appeared overhead and etched into the sky itself. Black clouds formed to give the glowing inscription contrast, and the air circuited with electricity enough to make people’s hair stand on end.

Day instantly turned to night.

As Grimm and Liar stared wide eyed at the spectacle, a great hum resounded for miles out. All gusts of wind halted and the air became still. In the quiet eeriness, something broke down from the dark ceiling.

A titanic spear of lightning fell on the part of the shield Liar had been weakening. The weapon of pure energy smashed through the defenses and demolished one of the watch towers below. Not only was that section’s protection down, but so were the others around it.

 _Descendant of Thor, alright…_ Grimm thought, while she cleared out her ears.

The blue haired witch put her wand away as she didn’t need it anymore, and she and Norse quickly soared through the damaged barrier.

They reunited with Liar, and Grimm began issuing instructions to them all.

 _“From the looks of it, they don’t know where we are_ or _how many we are. Norse, you will act as decoy and destroy the security enchantments so the Ministry can clean up easier when they get here. Try to make it look like there’s more than just you out here.”_

**_I may need more wands._ **

Grimm frowned and handed over some of her spares. Norse seemed delighted at the idea of going as berserk as she wanted. Grimm almost thought she heard an audible sound of glee.

The leader then continued.

_“Liar and I are going to get Kingsley and the Longbottoms. Our main threats are the Lestranges, especially Bellatrix—bonkers, that one. Crouch Jr. too, while we’re at it. You run into more than one of them at a time, you come find us. No fighting a handicap, understood?”_

Norse nodded reluctantly at the thought of having to retreat.

_“We all have our assignments. No one is allowed to be stupid and nobody is allowed to fock up and die. Now, let’s get this shit over with.”_

_“” **Let’s get this shit over with~**_ ** _♪””_** Norse and Liar gave a sarcastic cheer.

The three grasped each other’s hands and then separated.

.

.

While Norse enacted her distraction, Liar and Grimm were easily able to navigate themselves through the villa. Luckily enough, the security enchantments and sigils were left unchanged from Liar’s memories.

After avoiding some sparse patrols, the pair of Forgiven made it down a spiraling stone staircase to the door of the dungeon. As the two stood before the threshold, Grimm turned to Liar.

_“Alright. Are you ready for this?”_

_“I am.”_

_“He’s your father. You still think you can—“_

_“You saw my memories. Do you think I still see that man as my father?”_

The witch nodded and patted him on the shoulder.

_“Don’t be afraid.”_

_“I’m not afraid. I’m pissed.”_

_“Hmph, not bad for your last words. We’ll make sure to carve it on your gravestone.”_ Grimm broke into a wide grin.

_“’Bad jokes and sarcasm in the face of death’ seems a tad more appropriate.”_

They both readied their wands for what lay ahead.

Eyes sharp with a slight bracing of the teeth.

They took a deep breath and blasted the door down, ready to curse any Death Eater as soon as they were in sight.

They crossed the threshold and entered the room, but before they could fire a spell, they saw Bellatrix and Rabastan with their wands aimed at the Longbottoms on the floor.

Grimm and Liar felt a spike of rage jolt their heart rates, but forcefully fought it down. It was a rescue mission. They couldn’t afford to give in to their emotions, for one false move would spell the end for the Longbottoms.

“I’m giving you one chance! STAND DOWN!” Liar bellowed.

“Lynus…?! What are you doing?!” Rabastan shouted in confusion.

“ONE CHANCE! And that’s the remaining bit that calls myself your son.”

The two Death Eaters made no movements. They only continued to stare wide eyed at the intruders for a moment.

It was Bellatrix who brought the awkwardness to an end with a scream.

“LYNUS, YOU TRAITOR!”

“Now, now, Auntie Bell. Let’s try not to commit to anything stupid—er than what you are thinking.”

Grimm let out a short laugh.

They all turned to her.

“Sorry. ‘Auntie Bell’. Hah.” The Forgiven leader moved her eyes without rotating her head. “Kingsley. You alright, over there?”

“I’m fine! But the Longbottoms! They—!”

“We’ll save them.” Grimm shifted her sight to the two unconscious Aurors on the floor and back to the Death Eaters. “As soon as they surrender.”

“NOT ON YOUR LIFE, LITTLE GIRL!” Bellatrix howled.

“Look, you rabies ridden wench. We’re not above using Unforgivable Curses on you. We’ve got direct lines of sight, while your wands are aimed down. There’s no scenario in this where you come out on top.”

Rabastan and Bellatrix looked ready to pull their wands away from their hostages, which was exactly what Grimm wanted. But as bloodthirsty as they were, they also knew the importance of keeping control of their emotions. Their wands remained aimed on the hostages.

It was a difficult stalemate.

The four locked into a life or death match that hinged on the slightest of movements. A small inadvertent twitch, an out of place breath, a moment of impatience or hesitation—that was all it would take to decide victory and defeat.

Meanwhile, they heard the battle rumbling upstairs.

“Lynus!” Rabastan tried to create an opening. “I am your father! You would disobey your own parent?!”

“I’ve never thought of you that way since you let he-who-must-not-be-named kill my mother!!”

“She was a _traitor_! Your mother abandoned you and I for a MUGGLE!! An example had to be made!”

“Are you mental?! Do you hear yourself right?! Yeah, I’m raw about her ditching me, but she didn’t deserve what happened!” Liar grimaced. “…And running away from your problems is the last thing I could criticize anyone about.”

“LYNUS!”

“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!”

The four magi standoff intensified. Both sides were hastily devising possible plans to tip the odds in their favor. With outstretched arms, they all began to feel the burden it put on their muscles.

The static pose they held ate away at their nerves and joints. Sweat traveled down their bodies and into their eyes, but they refused to so much as blink. All their willpower poured into having their wands ready for the slightest opening.

The first sign of weakness showed in a most unexpected way.

Bellatrix’s hand gave an almost unnoticeable tremor.

“Arm getting tired? You’ve been torturing the Longbottoms, I see, so I bet you’re more spent than we are,” Grimm sneered.

Bellatrix growled and reaffirmed her stance.

In the hollow dungeon, the sounds of distant explosions reverberated ever nearer.

While the quiet war waged between them, it would come almost completely down to luck.

If Bellatrix and Rabastan tired out, or showed the slightest break in concentration, it would be Grimm and Liar’s victory. If the upstairs battles drew close enough and Death Eaters arrived in the dungeon, it would be Bellatrix and Rabastan’s.

The four could only wait for fortune to favor one of them.

.

.

While her comrades were fought silently downstairs, Norse’s battle was the complete opposite.

The glowing witch skipped off the ground and kicked the walls, while using her broom to propel her forward. She darted around pillars, banking tight turns to take cover from the flurry of enemy spells chasing her. All along the way, the witch continued to advance to the security enchantments.

She had taken down three so far. Only two more remained.

Norse arrived at the base of a watch tower, which housed one of them. According to prior experience, there would be at least five Death Eaters guarding it on the top floor. The witch found the task took too long the first time round, so she decided to take a different approach.

Norse pointed her wand at the tall building.

**_Fulgur TOTALUM!_ **

The tower started to resonate a light similar to a giant firefly. As if attracted to the glow, veins of burning yellow pulsed from the sky and struck the tower from all angles. Like the old story of Babel, the building collapsed from top to bottom. The thunder bolts traced acupuncture points from the roof down to its foundation.

When the destruction was complete, Norse saw the villa’s shield weaken significantly. She looked down at the wand that was burned of all its life and tossed it aside. Norse pulled a new one and made her way to the final hidden enchantment Liar mapped out.

With the elimination of the last security measure, her assignment would be fulfilled, and she would be free to join her comrades. Norse’s lips pulled into a smile as she veered her broom into the family study room. It was in there, the final enchantment would be found.

Or at least, it should have been.

She rechecked the memories and images Liar had given her to make sure she was in the right place. There was no doubt about it. Someone had the brains to figure out the Forgiven knew exactly where the security charms were, and moved the last one.

Norse cursed.

As far as her detection skills went, they would not be up to the task of tracking the artifact on her own. It was times like this the witch relied on either Liar or Grimm.

With Death Eaters closing in on her location, Norse had to think fast. Determine where they took the artifact and head there. She closed her eyes and began running through the memories Liar imparted on her. At the same time, she tried to come up with her own predictions.

**_If I were to move an important object, where would I place it?_ **

**_………………_ **

**_……._ **

**_Where do Mad Eye and Dumbledore hide the Forgiven?_ **

**_…_ **

**_…_ **

**_.._ **

**_….FOCK—!!_ **

Norse grit her teeth and kicked her broom off with enough force blow away the surrounding furniture.

The shining witch made a dash for the underground basement with mad haste.

.

.

In the dungeon, where the four magi continued their standoff, something caught Liar’s attention.

While trying to reveal as little as possible on his expression, the wizard communicated with Grimm telepathically.

_“We have a situation, boss.”_

_“What is it?”_

_“Rudolphus and Crouch Jr. just tripped one of my detection charms on the staircase. The two of them will be joining us soon.”_

_“And Norse?”_

_“Also on her way. Just tripped the same charm shortly after.”_

_“Even if she gets here in time, three wands against four, huh? Not fond of those odds.”_

_“Nor am I.”_

Grimm thought on it for a moment.

_“….I’ve got an idea, but it’s going to be_ **really** _tricky.”_

_“I do love tricks.”_

_“Establish Legilimens with Kingsley and then Norse when you can. This is going to go fast.”_

Grimm explained her plan and felt Liar’s mind cringe and squirm.

_“Tricky doesn’t even begin to describe how mental that plan is.”_

_“You have a better one?”_

_“No. But what you’re suggesting is like threading a needle on a moving broom, while on fire and underwater with four people at the same time.”_

_“Then we thread the bloody needle! We’ve trained enough. We’re good enough!”_

_“…..Okay, done. You can imagine their reactions. Kingsley’s just about shite his cloak and Norse is all smiles.”_

_“Alright, then. My mark.”_

_“Oooohhh kay.”_

_“3…_

_2…_

_…1.”_

With great apprehension, Liar and Grimm lowered their wands with slow, purposed timing. Even this simple act, they had to do with mind numbing precision. Their hearts beat so hard, they threatened to burst from their chests.

In the few seconds that dragged on, the two became completely defenseless.

Bellatrix and Rabastan looked at them confounded before they decided to take advantage. They changed targets from the Longbottoms to the Forgiven. Bellatrix loosed the Killing Curse, while Rabastan opted for a stunning spell for his son.

Before the projectiles hit, Liar barely brushed Grimm’s arm and instantly Disapparated them beside the chained Kingsley. The feat only doable because the wizard had been hard concentrating beforehand, normally impossible to accomplish with another person in tow.

As the two hostile spells moved through the empty space where Liar and Grimm once were, they narrowly missed Rudolphus and Crouch Jr., who just appeared in the doorway. Behind them, Norse sprang her ambush, provoking a two on one battle with the element of surprise on her side.

Meanwhile, Bellatrix and Rabastan turned their sights to Grimm, Liar, and Kingsley. Grimm handed the Forgiver a wand, and they both met their opposing foes.

In the middle of the chaos, Liar made use of the split off attentions. Able to Apparate instantly when alone, he swiftly ported over to the Longbottoms on the floor. It would take a moment to concentrate on Disapparating two people at once, but Grimm and Kingsley would buy him the time he needed.

Simultaneous events happened all at once. Norse shot a wide range spell that knocked the wind out of Crouch Jr. and Rudolphus. Bellatrix and Rabastan fired Killing Curses at Grimm and Kingsley, who both conjured a concrete barrier to block the attack. Liar was able to Apparate the Longbottoms back beside his comrades, in the meantime.

While everyone was engaged in their own wizard duels, Liar began treatment for the Longbottoms.

…

_What is this…_

_…._

_WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!_

_“Liar?! What’s wrong? You know you’re shouting this through Legilimens, right?” Grimm answered back._

_“It’s the Longbottoms!! They’re—They..!”_

The boy broke into a cold sweat as he linked his mind to the unconscious married couple. With a heavy heart, he shared what he uncovered. All of the Forgiven felt simultaneous senses of horror and dread.

They perceived the minds of the Longbottoms in ruin. No form of clear thought was present. Only pain and damage.

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THEM?!?!” Grimm cried.

Something snapped inside her. A familiar lock in her heart clicked opened. From the depths crawled all the sinister impulses she held back, the creatures injected venom into her blood. She felt her veins pump poison. Her darkest emotions released, intoxicating her—making her blood run black.

Grimm viciously thrust her wand in the direction of Bellatrix with hatred in her eyes. Her teeth biting her lips bloody.

**_“CRUCIO!!!”_ **

 


	13. Two Part Black Blood

 

** Chapter 13 – Two Part Black Blood **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven:  Grimm, Liar, Norse, and Kingsley face off against the Lestranges and Crouch Jr. After learning of the extensive damage done to the Longbottoms, the Forgiven will never be the same again._

_._

_._

A liquid dense and dark as tar bubbled up from Grimm’s insides. It intoxicated her and drove her mad with grief and rage.

Every memory she had of the Longbottoms, the warm affections they showed her—she remembered every one of them, and they each plunged her deeper and deeper into her emotional poison.

Hot tears welled in her eyes and her teeth painted red from biting into her lip. Through spitting blood, she howled at the torturers.

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THEM?!?!”

Bellatrix smiled sadistically.

Grimm aimed her wand.

With her present condition, she would be able to do it. It was the most natural thing to do. Grimm let emotion consume her; giving herself complete and whole to it.  

The word freed itself from her voice, like a beast from chains.

_“CRUCIO!!!”_

A stream of black and blue lightning stabbed from her wand and dug into Bellatrix’s skin. Like roots twining into the earth, the spell sunk into every pore of the Death Eater’s body.

Bellatrix collapsed and began writhing on the ground in pain. She tried to scream, but found she could barely even breathe. The Cruciatus Curse tangled and taut every fiber of her being. She was as close to dying from shock as humanly possible.

Grimm wasn’t the only one who gave into her hatred.

Liar’s Legilimens went chaotic under the stress of his mental link with his leader and the Longbottoms. Without intending to, he synchronized the minds of the Forgiven. In that moment, they shared their thoughts, their memories, and their emotions. What little mercy was left in Norse and Liar’s hearts were completely extinguished.

_“CRUCIO!!”_

**_CRUCIO!!_ **

Liar cursed his father, while Norse cursed Rudolphus.

The three of them had never wished so much pain on another person in their whole lives.

A part of them always held them back from going this far. Perhaps, they always felt death was enough punishment for any crime. Now, they knew better. Now, they understood what it meant to hate so purely and completely someone else’s very existence.

As much as they chipped away at their victims’ souls, they did as much their own. In many ways, the Cruciatus Curse damaged both the enemy and its caster. The three knew they had performed a cruelty that day, which would stain their souls forever…

And they did not care.

…

Crouch Jr., the only Death Eater not under Crucio, watched his allies in terror. Their expressions and the way their bodies contorted was something which would make anyone turn pale. It could only be described as inhumane.

The only one who wasn’t connected through the Legilimens Link on the Forgiven’s side was Kingsley.

_“Confringo!”_

A white shockwave blasted Crouch Jr. off his feet and into the wall, knocking him unconscious.

Kingsley stared at the three Forgiven with mixed feelings. He opted to stun the Death Eaters they were torturing.

_“Stupefy!”_

Three red lights flashed in succession, targeting the Lestranges writhing on the floor. The spell hit them flush and guaranteed a loss of consciousness. Though, the Death Eaters were completely out, their bodies’ still twitched with pain.

Grimm, Liar, and Norse had not stopped administering the Cruciatus Curse.

Kingsley looked at them like they had gone insane, which, in this case, was not too far from the truth.

“ENOUGH! Stop, all of you! They are defeated!!”

His words fell on deaf ears as the three’s remained unwavered.

“I said, ENOUGH!! I invoke my right as Forgiver to order the Forgiven—“

“Fine, Kingsley…” Grimm said in an almost bored tone. She dropped her wand hand as if it was of no importance, and the other two did the same. They coldly walked over their victims and took aim at their hearts.

Almost simultaneously, they incanted,

_““” **Avada Kedavra.”””**_

An eerie, green light blighted everyone’s vision.

When the glow dissipated, the Forgiven looked down at their targets. Instead of ending their lives with the Killing Curse, their aim had deviated and blew a large crater beside the Death Eaters’ bodies.

The three looked at each other.

“You felt that?” Grimm asked.

“Unbreakable Vow. Dumbledore must have ordered it. Barred us from killing them,” Liar answered.

**Master…**

Grimm turned to Kingsley with an icy stare.

“Countermand the Vow, Kingsley. They don’t deserve to live.”

He shook his head.

“……No. We bring them in alive.”

“What?!” she growled.

Kingsley swallowed hard and repeated himself. “We bring them in alive. If we Obliviate their memories, the Forgiven can still remain secret.”

“This isn’t about that.”

“I know, but you understand what happens if they die. Investigations will be launched and you three will be found.”

“That doesn’t matter! They die. Now.”

“Listen to yourself, Grimm! Do you understand how you are acting? Do not sink to their level.”

 _“We’ve sunk much deeper than that, I would say.”_ Liar gave him a mischievous smirk _._ “Kingsley. Look at us. Said it before, didn’t I? We’re not good people. The fact we can perform Crucio just proves it. So just let us do our job.”

Kingsley looked at the Forgiven, whose eyes now possessed a certain hollowness to them. Like pupils devoid of any light or compassion. A line had been crossed when they successfully performed the Cruciatus Curse.

Kingsley wanted so much to save them, even if it was what little left they had.

“No. You are not allowed to kill them. You would endanger yourselves in the long term,” he tried to rationalize.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Grimm! You three and I must make sure nothing like this ever happens again!!”

Suddenly, a string of spells poured from Grimm’s lips. Every cast splintered the wand further and further until eventually, it was rendered useless. The witch threw the wand at the Death Eater’s bodies, which had several sizzling craters all around them.

“Fine. You and Dumbledore are going to regret letting them live, I just know it.” Grimm turned to Liar. “Please see to the Longbottoms. I know what the Legilimens showed us, but if there’s any chance—“

“Of course, boss. I’m on it.”

Liar went over to the Auror couple and began a more thorough examination of their conditions. Meanwhile, Grimm, Norse, and Kingsley, went to work on modifying the Death Eaters’ memories. By the time they finished, they could hear the Ministry arriving outside the villa and a great battle being waged upstairs.

“You should go soon,” Kingsley told them.

Grimm nodded and they all went over to check on Liar’s progress.

The young wizard shook his head and shuddered.

“Their thoughts are all torn an-and _*Sigh*_ …I can’t mend it…Whatever’s left of their minds is fading,” Liar squeezed out with a pained voice.

Norse let out a small sob, while Grimm caressed Alice’s head.

“Alice. I’m so sorry we didn’t make it in time.”

 _“………….Damage was done long before you got here, Grimma,”_ Mrs. Longbottom whispered faintly. “Don’t blame yourself. None of you…You, Kingsley most of all.”

Grimm cupped her hands tight around Alice’s.

“You…remember me?...The Cruciatus Curse must have cause it—“

“Yes… And just like the boy said, I can feel my thoughts scattering.”

“Alice…!”

“You’re all magnificent people… No matter what anyone might say.”

“……”

Alice’s eyes met with Liar’s.

“Alastor?”

He nodded.

“Moody’s safe. He’s resting at St. Mungo’s.”

 _*Sigh*_ “Thank goodness.”

“….”

“And Frank?”

“…Gone.”

“—I see…”

Alice lifted her trembling hand and stroked Grimm’s cheek. She stared at the three Forgiven with a warm, fleeting gaze.

“Would you all listen to a request of mine?”

“ ** _”OF COURSE!””_** they answered.

“Haha…ha….Well…” Tears fell from Alice’s eyes and her lips quivered. “…….Watch over Neville for me? Please? For me?  Promise me, you’ll look after my son?”

On the exhalation of her last words, the woman’s consciousness dissipated forever…

Her final request begged for the protection of her child. She pleaded with her last sane breath. They wished she didn’t. She didn’t need to do it so desperately or so worriedly.

They vowed their lives to the promise.

No harm would ever come to the son of the noble witch and wizard.

Even when he would eventually start school at Hogwarts, Neville would have Grimm, Liar, and Norse watching over him.

.

****************************

.

_(In the Forgiven Underground Base)_

.

Grimm, Norse, and Liar sat in the middle of the stadium-like training room. On a conjured dining table, glasses stolen from Moody’s cupboard were being filled with a dense black liquid. Norse and Grimm stared at the beverage Liar poured for them with a skeptical brow.

“What the hell is this?” Grimm asked, while taking a sniff of it.

“A really good brew is what the hell it is,” Liar answered.

 _*Sigh*_ “Whatever. It’s been a rough day and I don’t care anymore.”

“That’s the spirit! Drink up, then.”

Norse nodded and stood with her outstretched glass. Liar smiled and joined her. Reluctantly, Grimm also joined the toasting ceremony and they touched cups.

“To the Forgiven’s first, _true_ mission together,” their leader said somewhat sarcastically. “No division, no pain unshared among us.”

“Oh!!” Liar cheered.

**Comrades forever warbound!**

They toasted and drank.

_*Cough!! COUGH!!*_

Norse and Grimm wiped their mouths and glared at their glasses.

“Liar! What the bloody hell is in this?! It tastes like poison!”

“Ah. That would be the poison,” he said with a sip.

“THERE’S _ACTUAL_ POISON IN THIS?!”

“For taste.”

“ _For TASTE?!”_

“Is there an overdramatic echo in here, or is it just me?  Yes, TASTE! Worry not, dear leader. There isn’t enough snake venom to kill you. Or scorpion venom….or frog veno—”

“Enough.” Grimm stuck her tongue out. _“Uggghhh…”_

**I am actually quite fond of it.**

Norse emptied her cup and held it out.

**Another!**

Grimm looked down at her glass, chugged the rest, and did the same. Once Liar refilled their drinks, they toasted again.

 ** _“”To the Longbottoms...””_** they said solemnly this time.

The glasses clinked softly, and they knocked back the whole drink without pause. The three felt the liquor burn their throats and edge their minds. Rather than dulling their senses, the alcoholic draught seemed to stimulate them instead.

Grimm stuck her tongue out again.

“Yuck. This sick brew have a name?”

“Black Blood,” Liar grinned.

“Hm. Fitting…”

All through the night, the three of them talked about stupid things, reminiscing about memories past, and delved into conversations of what could have been. Grimm shared her experiences with the Longbottom couple and they discussed how to go about protecting Neville.

Eventually, the conversation turned to what kind of reprimand they thought they would receive from the Forgivers. They directly opposed Dumbledore’s orders, even if they did attain consent from Mad Eye. Kingsley did not have the best impression of them at the moment either.

Liar was standing behind Grimm, recoloring her blue streaks, when he posed the question.

“I wonder what punishment awaits those who defy the great and wise Dumbledore.”

“…Fock Albus…” Grimm said with a bite.

“Hoho! ‘Albus’, eh? I can get behind that. But Norse might not be so…”

**No. I am of the same opinion.**

“Really? I mean you _were_ his direct apprentice.”

**Albus takes no apprentices. I was— _am_ — only his weapon.**

“Not to us,” Grimm said shortly.

Liar smiled in affirmation.

**….Thank you.**

“So, we were all able to use the Cruciatus Curse…”

“Feels a bit like a rite of passage, really. Quite possibly we all have the minds of sadists.”

“And black blood running through our veins,” Grimm muttered as she looked at the bottom of her cup.

“Not cold blooded or hot blooded, but _black blooded_ ,” Liar chuckled.

**Figuratively and in the literal sense.**

“Venomous creatures capable of felling the greatest of enemies via underhanded means? I believe it suits us perfectly, wouldn’t you say?”

**Far from honorable, but I would live by it.**

“Venomous enough to poison a certain Dark Lord, as well? Should he ever return of course.”

Grimm smiled.

“Yeah….Fock Voldemort too.”

Norse and Liar flinched at hearing his true name, and then laughed.

**“”And fock Voldemort too!””**

They toasted and continued their drinking until the early morning….

 


	14. What It Means To Be Forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New secrets concerning the Forgiven Guild come to light. Grimm, Liar, and Norse, head to Hogwarts to attend a graduation.

** **

** Chapter 14 – What It Means To Be Forgiven **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: Grimm, Liar, and Norse were able to perform true Cruciatus Curses and in doing so, crossed a line they can never return from. They successfully rescued Kingsley; though, it was impossible to completely save the Longbottoms. In the end, listening to Alice’s last words of coherence, they vowed to protect Neville on the couple’s behalf._

_._

_._

_(A few weeks have passed, since the battle at the Lestranges’ Villa)_

 .

“ _This is dark_ —even by your standards, Grimm,” Liar commented.

**I must concur…**

Norse and Liar stared at the corpse of their latest assassination. Except instead of it being an immobile, dead body, the lifeless husk was moving about, helping the Forgiven clean the victim’s own apartment. The zombie-like being even seemed to prance and dance around as it carried out its duties.

Its controller, none other than the leader of the Forgiven.

“Really? I thought it was a rather brilliant idea. I mean, we _have_ been practicing the Inferius Curse for some time now.”

“That’s our great leader for us. Nothing shames her, no matter how unsightly or disgusting if it is in the name of _pragmatism_. No, but really, please say something, Norse. I find it disturbing to have to clean next to a walking, crawling, corpse.”

**Meh. I am over it now. It is surprising this does not fit your twisted sense of humor.**

Liar sighed as he joined them in erasing all traces of their visit.

“So, how long do you think this probationary period is going to last? We haven’t had any free leave for weeks! It’s just mission after mission after mission. Not even exciting ones either…” Liar complained.

**You assume the Forgiven will not be disbanded after our insubordination.**

“We won’t get disbanded,” Grimm chimed. “…or else Albus will have to find three new children to do his dirty work.”

“Still, not as if they could just set us free. Unless they elect to ‘forgive’ us prematurely.”

“Not happening. I wonder if we’ll even live long enough to be ‘forgiven’.”

Norse shrugged.

**Forgiven or not. I _will_ die with a wand in my hand, surrounded by the dead remains of my fallen foes!**

“The substance of epics and childhood fairy tales.” Liar turned to Grimm. “Well? What will you do with your freedom and new identity, if you ever live to attain it?”

“Marry the love of my life and go adventuring, I think.”

Liar and Norse spat.

 **“”So pure…””** They both awed.

“Finish cleaning!” Grimm barked. “Our probation’s going to be lifted soon and I want to make some preparations.”

“Hm? You speak as if you know for sure it will be lifted.”

“Because Moody would be insane, if he thinks I’ll stay grounded for tomorrow.”

Norse and Liar shared a glance, and then turned to Grimm.

**“”What’s tomorrow?””**

.

.

In one of the Order of the Phoenix’s safe houses, Dumbledore, Mad Eye, and Kingsley held a secret meeting.

“You made sure you were not followed?” asked the Headmaster.

“I have, Albus. I doubt they could have tracked any of us out here,” Kingsley answered.

“Heh! Wouldn’t put it past them,” Moody said, almost proudly.

“Now, we will move on to the business at hand.” Dumbledore paused for a moment before speaking again. “Kingsley. What do you believe their motivation was behind saving you?”

“I _believe_ they did so out of the goodness of their hearts.”

“You do not think they have learned the truth?”

“…….No. I do not think so. And I am still of the belief we should inform them of the true conditions of being ‘forgiven’.”

“We cannot. There is no telling how they would react.”

“Do you have so little faith in them, Dumbledore?! As much as you would not believe, and even they themselves believe, they are _kind_ individuals.”

“Alastor?”

They both turned to Mad Eye for a third opinion to weigh in.

The veteran Auror closed his one real eye, while his artificial one darted between his two comrades. After contemplating for a moment, he exhaled a tired breath.

“Norse could care less, but Liar’s reaction is unpredictable. Grimm even more so. If they learned one Forgiver could only ‘forgive’ one person each, they might try to take matters into their own hands.”

“In some ways, they already have,” Dumbledore warned. “Their capabilities are far surpassing everything we have come to expect. We must exercise caution. If they should learn the truth, the actions they could take would be….hazardous to our cause.”

Kingsley grimaced inside. It was one of the bylaws of their covenant that he hated most.

After the Forgiven performed distinguished duty, they were to be “forgiven” by the guild’s handlers, the Forgivers. The three under contract would be pardoned with freedom and a new identity. Powerful tracking magic, almost impossible to ward off, would recognize the persons in question under a brand new existence. But there was one critical point they had lied to Grimm, Liar, and Norse about.

Only one Forgiven could be relieved per Forgiver. This meant if Kingsley had been killed by the Death Eaters in the previous incident, only two of them would have an opportunity to be freed from the contract.

Kingsley frowned.

“You think they would turn against us?”

“It is not outside the realm of possibilities. They have been trained to a point where no one is truly safe from them.”

“I disagree!” Kingsley stood. “I refuse to believe they would do any of one of us harm! We have seen their good will. Nobility and loyalty rare in any measure of person!”

“To each other. No one else,” Dumbledore worded calmly.

Kingsley opened his mouth to say something, but was unable to put anything together. Dumbledore looked to him with sympathy.

“To anyone outside the three, they are fully capable of inflicting cruelty beyond measure. We cannot deny this.”

“They…are not like that.”

“Enough of what ifs!” Moody growled. “I agree we shouldn’t let them know _every_ thing yet, but placing more restrictions on them will only backfire! We will tell them the one Forgiver, one Forgiven rule in due time. Let us agree, in the event should _any_ of us die, those three will be informed of the truth immediately. Norse doesn’t care about getting a second chance at life since she’s perfectly happy where she is now, but the other two are different.”

Dumbledore pondered the conditions and agreed. Kingsley also gave an apprehensive nod to the established middle ground.

“And about their probation! We should lift it already. Otherwise Grimm is likely to blow a hole through my basement,” the veteran Auror proposed.

Kingsley brightened.

“It’s tomorrow, is it?”

“Ah…Yes. Young love,” Dumbledore mused, as he stroked his beard.

.

.

_(Back in the Underground Base)_

_._

“I just recolored your hair last week. It’s barely faded at all.”

“Just do it, man.”

Liar groaned and ran his wand through Grimm’s hair. The blue strands glowed and faded with a soft light.

“Is there some special occasion, perhaps? Going to see a secret boyfriend we were never aware of?”

“Yes.”

The wand almost toppled out of Liar’s hand.

“….What?”

“Just kidding.”

“No, you weren’t….What?!”

Grimm threw Liar a dirty look.

 _*Sigh*_ “ _You need to stop using Legilimens.”_

_“Well, thanks to your strides in Occlumency, I couldn’t discern the identity of the lucky gentlemen.”_

Norse, who was reading a book nearby, closed it and began writing furiously with her wand.

**You have a lover?! How is that possible?!**

“You two aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

Liar and Norse shook their heads with excited expressions.

Grimm sighed a long drawn out breath.

“You can come with me tomorrow and I’ll explain. I’ve been meaning to tell you two about this for a while now anyway.”

“….I can’t believe you have a counterpart willing to put up with you.”

**Unfathomable.**

“Shut up, both of you! _Sorry_ if I’m not the most likable person ever. You lot put up with me, though?!”

“But a lover…?” Liar massaged his chin. “You could use the Unforgivable Curses on them if you ever got into a spat. Don’t tell me you Imperiused them into going out with you?!”

**Grimm is capable of such cruelty and pragmatism.**

“Prick assholes,” she grunted.

**And she possesses such a vulgar mouth too.**

“Truly lacking in the finer feminine qualities and attractive elegance of traddle da deedle dee dee,” Liar joked, barely able to hold his laughter.

.

.

The next day, the Forgiven met with Moody to go outside the Base.

“Your lover is Mad Eye?!”

“Shut up, Liar, or I swear, I _will_ put you under Crucio,” Grimm threatened.

With hats and hoods worn to hide their faces, the Forgiven proceeded to King’s Cross Station. There, they boarded a train bound for Hogwarts.

During the long ride, the three teenagers couldn’t help but grumble about how they could simply Apparate to the school under Dumbledore’s authority. Moody scolded them and reminded they weren’t there on business, but for a personal matter.

The train compartments were filled with parents, excited to attend the graduation of their children from Hogwarts. Some of the adults approached and greeted Mad Eye when they saw him through the glass door. It reached a point where the old Auror decided to join another carriage to prevent further attention being drawn to his three mysterious traveling companions.

As soon as the Forgiven were left alone, they pulled out their galleons and bought a whole horde of sweets from the passing cart.

“You still haven’t told us the purpose of our excursion. I mean, I _love_ school graduations as much as the next person, having never attended an academy myself, but… Who exactly is your boyfriend?”

**Even Mad Eye is acting strange.**

“For seriously. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you two so distracted. Mad Eye’s forgotten to scream ‘constant vigilance!!’ the whole day. I may actually, quite possibly…..* _Gasp!*_ be concerned.”

Grimm chucked a few chocolate frogs at the two and left them to stew in their curiosity.

…

The party of four stepped off the train and proceeded to the outdoor graduating ceremony. While many of the guests were seated, the three Forgiven opted to watch the whole display from afar; near the tree line of the Forbidden Forest.

Grimm eyed two particular parents in the audience with hawk-like focus. When Liar and Norse followed her line of sight, they didn’t find anything too special about the subjects of her gaze.

Their leader saw her teammates trying to guess her intent and decided to give them a small peace of mind.

“Those two are like the Longbottoms. They’re really good people and they took care of me in a really bad time.”

“Who are they?” Liar squinted.

**They do not seem to be Aurors.**

Before they could bombard Grimm with more questions, they saw the couple in question stand up. The two parents clapped jovially for the graduating student on stage.

“ _That_ is who we’re here for.”

**“”Huh?””**

Norse and Liar stared blankly at the small figure taking a diploma from Professor McGonagall.

“Not exactly a _boy_ friend.”

The mousy haired girl with bright pink hair bowed to the crowd and to the rambunctious cheers of her peers. She then proceeded to morph her face into different personas before ending her performance with a flip off stage.

“Tonks.”

The name tickled Grimm’s lips as she spoke it, and the edges of her mouth pulled into a smile.

She closed her eyes and established Legilimens with Liar and Norse. Memories of her childhood began flooding into her friends’ minds like an opened dam. The emotions attached to the thoughts were so intense, they overwhelmed the other two.

But rather than fight it, Norse and Liar chose to let it happen. They could tell from the initial sensations that Grimm had elected to share her deepest, most treasured memories with them.

And they received it, and her with open arms….

 

 


	15. A Grimm Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion between Grimm and Tonks

 

 

** Chapter 15 – A Grimm Secret **

_._

_Previously on The Forgiven: Grimm, Liar, Norse, and Moody attend the graduation of Hogwarts students. During the ceremony, Grimm reveals her childhood memories to her two comrades._

.

.

**Have you ever had that one person?**

…

That one person where every time your thoughts went to them, your heart would just—ache……

You forgot them, they forgot you, and suddenly, POOF!

You do something or see something that reminds you of them.

Or maybe you’re like me, who keeps a memento close by to dive into the memories every once in a while.

The things we do with the memories of those once closest to us…

…

So masochistic…

A fleeting suffering.

.

.

It started in my first year attending Hogwarts.

My father was an Auror and pure blooded wizard. Our line was vaguely related to the Weasleys if I remember right.

Mother was Muggle. She worked with teeth…. What were they called again?

Dentists. That was it.

My family was prime target for Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Pure blooded wizard marrying a Muggle? We might as well have put up a sign saying, “Avada Kedavra here, please”.

Despite the threat, we lived the best we could. We were happy.

I attended my first year of school and earned one of the top spots in all my classes. Sorted into Gryffindor, to my parents’ surprise, and made some good friends. Especially my distant relative, Charlie Weasley. We were both recruited for the Quidditch team early on, by McGonagall no less…

I was a bright and arrogant child back then. Basking in my talent and cleverness. Thrill seeker, full of energy and pride, but a good moral compass overall.

And then I met her.

**_Nymphadora Tonks._ **

Small adorable Hufflepuff girl, who, I admit embarrassingly now, I bullied rather cruelly.

I teased her about her name, her morphing ability, goaded her into weird transformations, and poked fun at her at every turn.  It was the childish way adolescents bullied their school heart crush. Not that I truly understood the reasons of my behavior until later on.

Back then, I already saw how magnificent she was. Clever, bold, quirky, cute, hilariously funny. If I listed all of the qualities I thought fondly of, I’d likely fill several rolls and tomes the size of mountains. But again, I never understood my feelings towards her, and as my attention towards her grew, so did my bullying.

For a whole year, I teased poor Tonks without her or I really knowing why.

-

Summer arrived and I returned home from Hogwarts.

That was when my life took its first turns for the worst…

My father disappeared shortly after I came back.

The Ministry worked around the clock to find him, but his abduction was far from rare. Those days, Aurors and wizards related to Muggles disappeared almost on a daily basis. I heard Moody himself, headed the investigation, but had no luck.

After a couple of nerve wracking weeks, they found his body. The Death Eaters carved a Muggle hate message on his chest and threw him in front of the Ministry of Magic.

My mother had a mental breakdown when she saw him. Fell to her knees and sobbed like mad.

I remembered grabbing the wand of a nearby wizard and swearing revenge. Took a few workers to restrain me. I guess even back then, I had some black blood in me…

As soon as dad’s funeral was over, I began my magical studies with new fervor. Completely possessed by vengeful desires, I read my volume of Defense Against the Dark Arts in a single night. I slept for two hours and went to the nearest magic book store. Purchased anything to do with combat spells and research on the darkest arts.

I lost track of time, studied for days straight with little sleep in between. Only when my stomach growled with hunger did I realize I couldn’t recall the last time I ate. Then another strange realization donned on me.

I didn’t remember the last time my mother and I spoke.

My child self jumped off the bed and ran down the stairs of my house.

She was exactly where I had seen her last.

Lying on the couch, crying. My mother had been so absorbed by her grief and I, my rage that we forgot about the world around us, including each other.

I tried to talk to her, get a reaction, but she was so thoroughly broken. She wouldn’t move, wouldn’t eat…I didn’t know what to do. It was unbearable to see her that way. I couldn’t stand it.

Being a witch and being too arrogant for my own good, my younger self decided to do something about my parent in pain.

Thinking back on it now, it’s really hard to believe what I did myself. A child’s thought process can truly be both frighteningly incomprehensible and disturbingly logical.

I only saw one solution to the problem, and it was to give my mother a new start to life…

So my younger self planned out what documents needed to be forged, how much of my mother’s memory needed tampering and Obliviating, and how to handle everything that would happen afterwards.

It was a cold and calculated course of action. No thought given to the consequences. Only a child could have come up with it.

When all the details were worked out, I cast the string of spells as quickly as possible. The process had to be complete by the time the Ministry sent workers over to address the underage use of magic.

…

A few hours later, I found myself standing in my parents’ bedroom without really knowing why.

The drawers and closet doors were open, revealing nothing inside. Any traces of human presence had been wiped clean from it. The vacant bedroom was rather eerie actually.

It took me a while to understand what was going on. All I could think of was,

_“Oh. It must have worked.”_

In addition to setting up a new life for my mother, I did one other thing at the end. To assure my mother’s life free of any harmful connection to my father and magic, I removed my own memories of her whereabouts. It prevented any temptations to go looking for her and reawakening her trauma.

The Ministry response took longer than expected. Tremendously slow, even by government standards. The owl letters arrived immediately, but the actual personnel didn’t come until a whole day later.

It was no problem telling them the truth. With the war with Voldemort in full swing, the Ministry had more to worry about than some little girl who Obliviated her mother. They didn’t have time to punish me, much less find a viable option for my guardianship.

It’s kind of funny, really.

Had me sign some documents, told them I would continue attending Hogwarts, made me promise not to use magic anymore, and practically left me alone afterwards. It’s hilarious how irresponsible it was. But it worked to my convenience so I didn’t complain.

Those were the quietest moments of my life.

Time was spent studying magic for the one day I would have my revenge. My rage that burned like the flames of hell had nestled into a quiet fury. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say it was hibernating. _That_ “me” was my most emotionless.

The young really are adaptable to most anything.

As a child, I was able to set aside a certain amount of living expenses from my parents’ funds. I learned to cook for myself, so I wouldn’t die of starvation. Fully functioning in all the mundane errands life required. Self-sufficiency gained in a week max.

Moody visited one time. Heard what I had done and scolded me. Don’t remember seeing him so angry to this day.

I think he asked me why I did it. Don’t remember my answer, but he smacked me a good one after that. Didn’t feel it….

Didn’t feel anything during that time…

-

Those blank months of summer passed without much color and it was back to Hogwarts.

I was dead on the inside, but put up my old lively face in front of my peers. It was simple to act like nothing was wrong. Surprised at how easy it was. No one noticed.

Whenever a question of my parents came up, I sidestepped the topic and no one was the wiser. Except for Professor McGonagall, I suppose.

She tried to talk to me, get me to open up. It didn’t happen, but the thought was appreciated. Should have done it. Could have just bled the wound then and there, but I let it fester instead.

But it’s fine it worked out that way, because what happened next would change…well— _everything_ …

It was in the middle of the first semester, when I was bullying Tonks per my usual routine. Though, this time would be significantly different from the others. This time, I pushed the little Hufflepuff a bit too far.

I think I made some unsavory remark about her hair. Probably traumatized by how often I made fun of it, Tonks had chosen to make it as black and plain as possible. Even to this day, I can’t really remember what I said, but I know it was much worse than my usual standards. Maybe the weight of what I had done was finally getting to me. Wanted to take it out on someone…

Chose the target of my outburst poorly, but fortunately(in the long run).

I never saw Tonks so angry. All her pent up rage from the bullying must’ve built up to that.

She took out her wand and hissed something. Some blue light flashed before my eyes and I flew across the hallway like an arrow from a bow.

When I came to, all the kids around me were laughing. I checked my body for any changes, but couldn’t find out what was wrong.

Tonks was so cute.

Even though she was the one who hexed me, she ran over with such a worried face, apologizing the whole time.

One of my friends finally handed me a mirror and I saw what Tonks had done. Dark, blue streaks painted my hair. It was the first time I felt a genuine emotion in so long.

Meanwhile, Tonks kept apologizing and telling me to let her fix it.

Then something unexpected happened as I brushed her hand away…

…

I laughed…

…

I teared up a little, but I laughed.

Everyone must’ve thought I was mental. Tonks looked so worried.

When I came to my senses, I had a smile on my face.

“I like it.”

.

.

I stopped bullying Tonks after that. Stayed completely away from her.

I realized my feelings for the girl, and how teasing her was my way of showing it. But it was for that very reason I wanted to keep my distance. My child self rationalized that intimacy with another would only hurt me and them in the end.

School went on without much happening and another year came to pass.

It was summer again and we all took the train to King’s Cross.

It’s a wonder how I lasted so long….

It kind of just……hit me.

I stepped off the train and onto the platform. BOOM. I felt it.

Had all my luggage beside me on a roller and I couldn’t move. Tried to will my legs in front of the other, but they wouldn’t budge.

Suddenly, it all flooded in.

How my parents’ picked me up in my first year. How I would be going back to that empty house now. How I didn’t know where my own mother was, and I, myself, Obliviated all her memories of me and my dad.

…

….It crushed me.

I couldn’t move.

The rest of the students left with their parents and I stayed there until they were all gone. The Hogwarts Express left.

I’m not sure how long I stood there—felt like _hours._

…

Didn’t notice Tonks in front of me until she started yelling.

“Grimma!!”

“………Tonks?”

“What’s wrong? Where are your parents?”

“Huh? Um—They’re—….”

I remember Tonks’ parents standing behind her with the same concerned look.

“They…aren’t here anymore.”

.

.

Not sure how it happened, but I ended up at Tonks’ place. Her parents treated me so well, it hurt. I couldn’t pretend to be the lively girl I was at school. So I went back to being emotionless.

It was my default now.

While I was staying with them, I brought up the issue of going home once. Her parents gently insisted that they couldn’t allow me to do that….

It was nice.

But despite their best efforts, I still chose not to open up to them. They probably contacted someone at the Ministry to learn my circumstances. It only made them want to watch over me more.

Tonks tried so hard to get through. It was annoyingly difficult to keep her out. Just hearing her say my name everyday was enough to send shivers down my spine….

Embarrassing.

Stupid.

Made me itchy.

…

….

Then, one fateful day...

Damn.

We were having dinner and I think Mr. Tonks mentioned something happening overseas. It was on the news. Some random arbitrary topic that shouldn’t have had the effect it did.

The fork I was eating with dropped from my hand and I felt my whole body freeze up. I heard something that sparked memories of my mother.

The place Mr. Tonks mentioned might have been where I sent her, or maybe somewhere nearby.

I excused myself and ran to the bathroom.

I tried to forget, tried to get rid of that feeling.

I’d want to see her again if I remembered.

It was blasphemy.

Couldn’t allow it.

I threw up everything I had eaten and went to the bedroom I shared with Tonks….

I was so sick of it. Sick of it all. Sick of myself.

Disturbed with what I had done…

I just…wanted it to end…

How do I make it all end?

.

Before I knew it, I was holding my wand to my head.

Hands were shaking. Hot tears felt like they were burning out my eyes.

I just wanted oblivion.

So badly.

Run away from this life and let someone else deal with it.

_*Sigh*_

Liar probably understands now why I was able to relate to him so well after this.

I wish I could say I found some hidden strength within me. Some noble sentiment that there was plenty to live for. That I knew for certain my life wasn’t worth throwing away, and my memories were worth keeping.

Plain idiocy.

I was dead set on doing what Liar would do years later.

Tired of it all. Everything was so focked…

Just so focked…

But as I stood there…. in the darkness of the room with a wand to my temple, I was tackled forward.

When I tried to get up, someone held me down.

It was Tonks, of course…

Blubbering away like a cute little idiot, screaming,

“DON’T DO IT, GRIMMA!! PLEASE!! _DON’T DO IT!!!”_

…

I cried. She cried harder.

I cried harder.

So stupid.

So warm.

…

We slept in the same bed that night, soaked in each other’s tears. Not really sure what came over me.

Suppose I just got swept up in the moment…

I kissed her.

…

She was only two inches away from me! My self-control was completely shot by then, so— Ugh! No, those are just excuses.

…

I loved her, and before I could explain myself, Tonks kissed me back.

.

.

We spent every moment possible together.

I lived with Tonks and her parents for the rest of that summer. When we went back to Hogwarts, I chose to undergo the accelerated education program to graduate sooner and become an Auror.

Those were the happiest times of my life…

Tonks and I caused mayhem all over school. How many times did we sneak into each other’s dorms? How many times did we get caught?

An embarrassing number I could be proud of.

So stupid.

McGonagall chewed us out pretty good. I remember one time we found an old photo of her. She looked so young and, in bad taste, I goaded Tonks into taking her form…

Naturally, McGonagall found out, but instead of punishing us, we saw her laugh for the first time ever!

…. _then_ she punished us.

.

When the school year ended, Mad Eye took me in. He’d heard about my trying to become an Auror and made me an apprentice of sorts. Somewhere along the way, he became a kind of father figure and I his daughter.

We’d never admit that to each other, though. I’ll always be grateful to him.

Tonks, her family, and Mad Eye saved me.

Not too long after, I graduated and became an official Auror. Tonks still attended school, but we exchanged letters and spent whatever time we could.

When summer rolled around, she stayed over at my personal flat. Waking up next to her, eating breakfast together, and then I’d head off to work…

It was bliss.

…

And then I killed three Death Eaters…

Sentenced to death, life sentence….or join The Forgiven.

Of course, her memories of me were Obliviated when I joined up with the Albus’s secret club.

I would have given up long ago, if I didn’t have her.

I kept the blue streaks she colored into my hair from way back when.

It kept me going.

…

_Disgustingly embarrassing…._

.

.

_(Back in the present, at the Hogwarts Graduation Ceremony)_

_._

Grimm finished imparting her memories to Norse and Liar.

The leader of the Forgiven tried not to look at them out of embarrassment. But after not sensing any sort of response, she reluctantly turned around to face them.

Norse embraced her in a bear hug and lifted her off her feet. Liar had tears in his eyes, jumped, and hugged Grimm from the other side. It was a very haphazard show of affection.

When the Forgiven were all hugged out, Grimm turned to the ceremonial grounds.

With a deep breath, she whispered,

_“Expecto Patronum.”_

A silvery smoke fox leapt from her wand and ran towards the group of celebrating graduates.

After a few short moments, the Patronus came back with a witch’s hat in its mouth; a young girl chasing after.

The fox wisp jumped onto Grimm’s shoulder, handed off the hat, and disappeared. Tonks stopped in front of her and rested her hands on her knees. She was fairly out of breath, to which Grimm found cute.

“Wotcher, Tonks.”

“Huh—? Uh, yeah. Wotcher.”

Grimm handed Tonks’s hat back to her. For a moment, the mousy haired girl seemed dumbstruck.

“Cool thing with your hair!” she suddenly blurted.

“Thanks. A special acquaintance of mine dyed it a long time ago, and the style sort of just… stuck.”

“Oh. I see.”

“…”

“Do I know you?”

“Probably saw me in passing. I graduated too, but didn’t draw a lot of attention.”

“Feels like I would’ve remembered you.”

“Sure about that?” Grimm asked teasingly. “Listen, I know it’s a bit out of sorts for me to ask you this, but have you traded your graduation emblem yet?”

“Hm?....What?!”

“Ahahaha…” Grimm laughed embarrassingly.

It was an old tradition that the exchanging of graduation emblems held a deep meaning. Sometimes it was a ceremony performed by the closest of friends…other times it could be a ritual between two lovers, or serve as someone’s love confession.

“Sorry, you probably wouldn’t want to exchange it with someone you’ve just met.”

“No, I don’t necessarily mind—!” Tonks said in a fluster. The girl blushed and her hair changed various color schemes.

She unpinned the emblem bearing the house of Hufflepuff from her cape. As she held it in her hands, she took a deep breath to calm her beating heart. With a bright smile on her face, Tonks held the pin out to Grimm.

“Feels like my body’s moving on its own a bit…” Tonks said shyly.

Liar and Norse blinked behind them, and Grimm read their thoughts.

_“I didn’t Imperius her, you idiots!”_

And with that, Grimm severed the Legilimens Link with her two comrades to prevent further distraction. The blue haired girl took out her old emblem, which she polished the night before. Hers bearing the House of Gryffindor on it.

And the two witches exchanged the pins, grinning widely at each other.

“Congratulations, Tonks.”

“Thanks. You too…Um?”

“Oh. I never told you my name, huh? It’s—“

“Gri….mma….”

Grimm froze on the spot.

“Grimma…Huh? Wait—! How did…I…”

Tonks’s pupils contracted and she felt a shock course through her head. She massaged her eyes as she mouthed the name over silently and then out loud again.

“…Grimma…”

She looked up and saw her forgotten love pointing a wand at her.

“You, bonehead…”Grimm said with a sorrowful smile. Tears fell from her eyes and traced the edges of her cheeks. “Why’d you have to go and start remembering…”

Tonks’ eyes went wide with recognition.

She was in a panic.

“Grimma..! No—!!”

_“Obliviate...”_

It was barely louder than a breath.

Grimm’s wand glowed a murky white light that grew and faded with the light in Tonks’s eyes. The girl’s expression changed from distraught to emotionless. She seemed to enter a temporary blank trance.

Grimm looked at the Hufflepuff emblem in her hand and moved to re-exchange it.

To her surprise, Norse and Liar grabbed her arm.

“There’s no harm in letting it be, now is there?” Liar frowned.

“And what is she supposed to think, when she finds she has a Gryffindor emblem instead of a Hufflepuff one?”

Liar shrugged.

“Who cares.”

 _*Sigh*_ “Thanks but I should really—“

Norse pulled Grimm into the usual tight embrace and carried her off her feet and away from Tonks. Even though their leader was being forcibly removed, she didn’t seem to fight it. Liar finished modifying Tonks’s memories before leaving.

…

In the middle of the field, right outside the forbidden forest, Tonks stared at the emblem in her hand.

.

.

_Do you ever get the feeling you forgot someone really important in your life.......?_

That they had this great effect on you at some point, and you just _can’t_ remember them no matter how hard you try?

It’s…tragic….

They were there and I…

Just feel something when I touch this emblem.

….

…

_It hurts._

 

EXTRA COMIC

…

In the middle of the field, right outside the forbidden forest, Tonks stared at the emblem in her hand.

.

.

_Do you ever get the feeling you forgot someone really important in your life.......?_

That they had this great effect on you at some point, and you just _can’t_ remember them no matter how hard you try?

It’s…tragic….

They were there and I…

Just feel something when I touch this emblem.

….

…

_It hurts._

 


	16. From Newer Days On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Forgiven storyline begins intersecting with the main Harry Potter plotline.

 

** Chapter 16 – From Newer Days On **

_._

_On the night Voldemort fell, as well as the disbandment of the Order of the Phoenix, Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody discussed the dangers that still lurked the shadows. Knowing the Wizarding World still required guardianship, the two asked Kingsley Shacklebot to be an additional handler for their new, secret coven. Next, they recruited and trained three children._

_Their names: Grimm, Liar, and Norse._

_Talented, hardened, scarred by their own respective pasts, and freely demonstrating in everything morally gray. They were the hidden shield, as well as the quiet dagger, that protected not only residents of the Wizarding World, but Muggles as well._

_Permitted use of the Unforgivable Curses by the magic binding them to their guild, the three are called, “ **The Forgiven”.**_

_._

_._

_Previously on The Forgiven: Grimm, Liar, and Norse were able to rescue Kingsley and the Longbottoms. With Alice’s last departing words, the Forgiven vowed to keep her son, Neville, safe._

_ Five years have passed since the previous chapter. _

_._

In the Forgiven’s underground base, underneath one of Moody’s safehouses, Liar and Grimm ran laps around the training room per their daily physical conditioning.

“Oh, for fock’s—” Grimm groaned.

“On your left.”

“Agh!!”

For the second time that afternoon, Liar lapped Grimm on the track circuit.

An oversized clock, usually built for clock towers, hung over them like a cloud. It rung three times, sounding the end of their running quota. They would complete their final circuit and end their exercise for that day; Liar earlier than Grimm.

As the witch watched her teammate run off into the distance, she gave up on competing with him and slowed her pace for the final leg. Grimm’s eyes wandered about the place they called home for the last six years.

Much had changed since they first joined the Forgiven.

At first, the underground base was little more than a spartan training house. Exercise equipment, magical instruments for combat and spying, simple dorms, and the bare necessities for living were the only objects to fill the coliseum sized bunker. Their home had grown much homelier since then.

In addition to the base’s dimensional expansions, more flavor had been added to make the place more livable. “Procured” art paintings hung from the giant walls. A small Quidditch court had been constructed. Trophies from some of their more memorable missions littered the underground stadium like displays in a museum. Through some innovative spellcrafting, Liar was able to create a miniature sun that hovered during the day and changed to a moon during the night.

One of Grimm’s favorite new aesthetics was the giant tree, which grew tall enough to reach the ceiling, and had branches growing out the sides for anyone to sit on.

For the past week, the Forgiven were required to stay underground after a particularly attention drawing mission. Though, no one would ever know it was them, they were told to lay low as precaution. The tree helped deal with the lengthy times indoors.

As Grimm ended her lap, she joined Liar, who was sitting under the tree with his back resting against its trunk. The wizard lazily pulled out a maroon colored box labeled: “Fire Drakes”, and put one of its cigarettes in his mouth. He snapped his fingers and lit the end. Rings of smoked tobacco floated into the air shortly after.

“Good lung capacity and cardio. Congrats on breaking the unhealthy smoker stereotype,” Grimm commented.

“Why, thank you,” Liar responded with a smile.

“As ‘healthy’ as you may be, you should knock off the habit before it kills you.”

“If something _were_ to kill me, it won’t be lung cancer. Or heart disease, for that matter.”

“Logical hypocrisy at its finest.”

“Hehe! I would wear those words like a sash to a beauty pageant.”

The thought of Liar wearing a gown and sashaying in front of judges entered Grimm’s thoughts. She shook her head vigorously.

“Gross and cringe-worthy.”

“Really? I’d believed I’d grown quite a figure in these past years to accentuate the better parts of a dress.”

“Still can’t believe you can outrun me,” Grimm pursed her lips.

“So competitive. You outclass in most _everything else_. Can you not be satisfied with that?”

Grimm was still pouting a bit. She eyed Liar’s cigarette pack.

“…Give me one,” she said.

“I thought you said you were quitting.”

“I haven’t had one in two weeks. It’s fine. Not like I’m going to outrun you anytime soon…”

The wizard shrugged and handed her a cigarette. When Grimm put it between her lips, Liar grasped his fingers near the end.

* _Snap*_

A small fire flared to life and lit the cigarette.

The Forgiven had been working on their non-wand spells for some time now. Another part of their training regimen. They never wanted to be completely defenseless, not even in the event they lost their wands. Moody’s catch phrase: “Constant Vigilance!” deeply engraved itself into all of them.

For a long relaxing moment, the two sat under the shade of the indoor tree, smoking their tobacco with leisure. The witch eventually summoned a couple of Caprisun packs and threw one at Liar. As she sipped on her juice, Grimm thought on how far they’d come, how much they’d changed, but how so much stayed the same.

She looked at the wizard beside her, who furrowed his brow at the sight of his empty, last cigarette pack.

Liar had grown impressively through the years. He was about 5’11, with Grimm measuring up to his eyes. All the Forgiven went through a physical training regiment, and had built a fair amount of muscle because of it. Liar was by no means bulky, but nowhere near as lanky as he was in their earlier years. Though, he still enjoyed playing the fool, the outlines of his face and frame were slowly gaining the edges of maturity.

During one of the Forgiven’s more scrappier battles, Liar was almost killed by a powerful curse. A deep cut replaced what used to be the flesh of his left earlobe. Because of how strong the spell was, the injury was unhealable by the time they could treat it.

Given how dangerous their missions were, it wasn’t too surprising they had all gained a good amount of scars by now. Not only that, but stress and sleepless nights caused the three Forgiven to grow some dark rings around their eyes.

Grimm herself had a permanent wound striking vertically down her lips. It stung for her to speak or even breathe, but the witch had gotten used to it after a while.

The leader of the Forgiven experienced her own exceptional growth. Previous years had made her wiser, faster, stronger, and all around, a much more formidable individual than she was before. Experience tempered her mentally and sharpened her mind. She prospered under the role of the Forgiven’s leader, and developed a certain amount of charisma and boldness as well.

A part owing to Grimm’s leadership, the Forgiven had gained some autonomy: the ability to move without the required supervision of their Forgivers. On many accounts, they were able to choose their own missions, follow their own leads, and conduct themselves as they saw fit. Dumbledore, Moody, and Kingsley transitioned from a close mentoring role to ones more distant—still handing out important assignments and counsel from time to time, but not as frequent.

Mad Eye didn’t even watch over their training anymore….as much.

The three teenagers had changed much physically and ability wise, but as far as their personalities went, they more or less stayed true to themselves. Grimm, ever sarcastic and bitter. Liar, still sarcastic and bad humored. Norse, challenging and stubborn, and also very much sarcastic prone.

Grimm and Liar climbed to the higher branches of the tree so they could enjoy some height. When they reached about halfway to the ceiling—about five stories high—they slumped into lazy, comfortable postures. Grimm pulled out her wand and incanted,

_“Accio.”_

A PlayStation controller flew to her from somewhere in the large room. As soon as her hands touched it, a magical projection hummed to life. The artificial sun died out, and the only source of light came from a holographic great sword in the middle of the stadium.

Words above shone:

                **NEW GAME**

** >Continue?**

Liar’s shoulders drooped.

“Final Fantasy, again? How many times have you beaten this already?”

“It’s a good game. You’re just annoyed because I won’t play Tetris with you.”

“I _must_ defeat Norse. I cannot do so without proper practice and a sparring partner,” Liar proclaimed.

“One hour.”

The young man rolled his eyes and summoned a box of Fire Whiskey Chocolates to snack on. Taking it as a sign of agreement, Grimm began playing her game. The sounds of FFVII resounded loudly through the base as colossal holographics played out in front of the two—a video gamer’s dream brought to life.

After about half an hour, Liar spoke up.

“I take it our next venture will be a difficult one?”

“What gave you that idea?” Grimm responded without looking.

“Because you bite the inside of your mouth and spam the O button more aggressively when something occupies your thoughts.”

“How annoyingly observant, you are…”

“It _is_ the role I’ve taken to.”

Grimm pressed her lips to one side with annoyance.

“Albus has a couple of really annoying jobs for us.”

“How difficult? Like…Tuesday difficult?”

“Yes— _that_ difficult. I’ll explain when Norse gets here.”

“Where the bloody hell is she anyway?” Liar said, popping another chocolate into his mouth.

“She didn’t come home last night. Probably having some fun out on the town,” Grimm shrugged.

“Thought we were supposed to be keeping a low profile?”

“I owed her. Helped her sneak out. Sorry, by the way. She took some Polyjuice with her.”

“Are you serious?! That was a fresh batch! I didn’t brew those so Norse could _fock_ half of London, and _get focked_ by the other half!” Liar exclaimed.

“With great power comes great sexual appetite, apparently.”

As the Forgiven aged into puberty, Norse’s sexuality awakened in a most unexpected way. She had developed a habit of using Polyjuice Potions to take forms of beautiful women and handsome men, as well as grow their respective genitalia. Needless to say, the witch had her own fun with that.

“Speaking of which…” Grimm snickered.

The portkey to the underground base activated. From out of a soda can, Norse appeared within the video game hologram. Grimm shut down the game and restored the sun. She and Liar leapt off the tree to greet her.

Norse’s exceptional height only grew further over the years. She was burlier, harder, possessed of rippling muscles, including six pack abs. Her hair grew long enough to cover most of her back. Like the other two, Norse sported her own scars from their missions. Particularly one horizontal gouge, which cut through the bridge of her nose and passed right under her eyes.

The large glowing witch had improved her spellcraft to the point her magic resembled acts of god at times. Norse broke countless wands, almost all of them caused by curses and charms similar to apocalyptic events. And as far as practice duels went, she was the Forgiven’s undisputed champion. Liar winning none of their spars together, while Grimm won maybe one out of five, to the leader’s irk. As powerful as Norse had grown, she still possessed a kind of soft side for her two friends.

With hair glowing almost brighter than the artificial sun above, she strode to Grimm and Liar with a giant grin plastered on her face; a mysterious crate under one of her arms.

“Looks like you had a good time,” Grimm commented.

**A most _satisfying_ trip.**

“NORSE! Stop using up all of our Polyjuice Potions!! You know how long it takes to brew those damned things?!” Liar complained.

Norse laughed silently and handed Liar the large crate she was holding. The wizard poked the box with skepticism, but decided to open it regardless. The crate’s insides were filled with packs of his favorite Fire Drake tobacco. As he had just finished his last pack, the wizard’s temper turned about completely.

“Ah~♪! A nicotine angel has descended!” Liar praised.

“The Nicotine Angel; she comes with tidings of tobacco, while reeking heavy of sex,” Grimm added.

**Both of you can go die!**

The three joked around for a little. When they had their fair share of laughs, Grimm commanded their attention.

“Albus has assigned us not one, but two bullshit missions. I won’t lie—they really, really suck.”

 ** _““Yay~_** ** _♪_** ** _””_** Liar and Norse cheered.

“Our _first_ mission is to break into Gringotts.”

Liar and Norse were no longer cheering.

“And here’s the best part,” Grimm continued. “We’re not even supposed stealing anything.”

**_“”WHAT?””_ **

“Albus just wants to _see_ if someone could do it. He probably also wants us to find holes in the security so the Goblins can cover it up.”

“That…is completely lunatic,” Liar groaned.

“Told you. Course, it wouldn’t be much of a Forgiven mission if we _didn’t_ steal anything, which is why I’m giving us an _additional_ objective.”

 **Oh joy,** Norse wrote with her finger.

“We will be breaking into _Voldemort’s_ vault, while we’re there,” Grimm declared with a sly grin.

…

Everyone was silent for a moment.

Then Liar coughed. “Voldemort’s vault?”

“Yup.”

“The one even the Goblins, who _own_ the banks, can’t open?”

“The very same.”

“………..Well! If we’re going to pull off the greatest heist in wizarding history, we might as well do something memorable,” Liar exasperated.

**It will be an impressive feat. One that will bring us even greater infamy.**

“So what’s the second mission?” Liar gave a wary ask.

Grimm sighed and placed a hand on her hip.

“We’ll be abducting, and possibly protecting— _Nicholas Flamel_.”

The words sent Norse and Liar’s stomachs plummeting.  After another long, awkward moment, Liar recovered first and was putting two and two together.

“Testing the Gringott vaults? And now, Nicholas Flamel? Albus believes someone is after the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

“That would be my bet.”

“Voldemort?”

“Could be,” Grimm answered in a dark tone. “— _Probably._ ”

**It has been long since our last Voldemort-related mission.**

“Yeah. And the Sorceror’s Stone? _That’s_ a fairly big move.” Liar went silent as he pondered a thought. “And Albus, who’s tried to keep us secret all these years is suddenly giving us assignments like these?”

Their leader looked at the two Forgiven with all seriousness. Grimm had come to the same conclusion Liar and Norse were coming to right now. It was what they expected to happen eventually. Something a part of them dreaded.

“Things are changing,” Grimm told them. “We’ve been living in secret for so many years now, but these missions…”

_The Forgiven might not be hiding behind the scenes for much longer._

 

 


	17. Skeleton Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story begins to intertwine with the main Harry Potter story line, as the Forgiven make the necessary preparations to break into Gringotts.

** Chapter 17 –Skeleton Key **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: Some years have passed, and the story is now entering the main timeline. Specifically, the beginning of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone._

_The Forgiven received two assignments from Dumbledore. One, successfully break into Gringotts, to which Grimm adds the additional objective of breaking into Voldemort’s vault. Two, abduct and protect Nicholas Flamel._

_._

_._

In the underground base, the three Forgiven stared up at the magic hologram rotating above.

“This is balls crazy,” Liar scratched his head.

The wizard was referring to the intricate, web-like layout of the Gringott tunnels. They weaved, joined, and separated, without any rhyme or reason. Most likely, it was constructed this way to make theft as difficult as possible, creating a veritable labyrinth. It was a hard task to memorize the route to Voldemort’s vault alone, much less the other tunnels surrounding it.

**“It is obvious why the goblins utilize train tracks. Liar, is it possible to bewitch the carts to work for us?”**

The young man shook his head.

“It’s possible, but it would consume far too much time. Undoing the locking charms alone…”

**“What if we Imperiused a goblin?”**

“We could…” Grimm answered with doubt. “But there _must_ be counter measures in place for that.”

 **“I’ve got it!”** Norse jumped up and down. **“We use Polyjuice potion to masquerade ourselves as Voldemort and _fool_ the goblins into taking us to his vault.”**

The Forgiven leader fought down a snort.

“Oh, yeah? And how do we escape?”

 **“We free one of the dragons guarding the tunnels. And then,”** Norse spread her arms. “ **We _FLY_ out.”**

Unable to contain themselves any longer, Grimm and Liar collapsed to the floor with uncontrollable laughter. Norse jumped on top of them and wrestled.

After the stupid joke, Liar turned to the other two.

“It _could_ work.”

“You serious?” Grimm folded her arms.

“With some dumb luck, why not?”

“We’d have to be very, very lucky and very, VERY dumb. Two things we are definitely not.”

All three of them cupped their mouths in thought. They paced the room, looking at the hologram every once in a while. Grimm was starting to feel impatient.

“I can think of about a thousand ways to _get_ to the vault, but it won’t open without Voldemort’s wand, key, or magic. And the goblins can’t open it themselves….”

“I can probably break into the vault at least,” Liar suddenly spoke. “Got a neat little trick for that and a particular tool in my possession for _just_ the occasion. Need to go get it, though.”

_“’For just the occasion’?”_

“What child doesn’t dream of breaking into Gringotts at one point or another. No? Just me and my horrible childhood.” The young man saluted. “Leave it to me, boss.”

“Fine, go get whatever you need to get.”

Liar did an about face and exited the base via portkey. With only Grimm and Norse left in the room, the blue haired witch turned to her companion.

“We still need an escape route. We also have to come up with the fastest way of getting to the vault, but….” Grimm huffed at the holographic labyrinth in the sky. “—no matter how I look at it, it would take too long without using the train tracks or a broom. The whole underground’s charmed to be a no fly zone. Do we really need to risk Imperiusing a Goblin? There _must_ be a better way.” The Forgiven’s leader pressed a finger to her wrinkled forehead. “What do you think, Norse?”

When Grimm turned around, she expected to see her large glowing friend, but instead, she found a large waddling penguin.

“…”

**“…”**

“Norse? What are you doing?”

 **“Being in this form helps me think,”** she wrote with her beak.

“….Whatever works.”

The Forgiven recently completed their Animagus training, and the shapeshifting abilities were already paying huge dividends. When it came to their last mission’s reconnaissance, their animal forms afforded them a stealthiness, concealment charms and invisibility cloaks could not match.

Penguin-Norse waddled next to Grimm and tapped the leader’s leg with her wing. When the blue haired witch looked down at her, the bird only murmured one word.

**_“Slide~_ ** **_♪”_ **

.

*********************

.

The Forgiven had a way to get to the vault quickly. They had a way to bypass Voldemort’s signature to open the safe, if Liar came through. But they still needed to overcome possibly, the most difficult hurdle of the bank heist.

They needed an exit strategy.

The Forgiven could enter the bank stealthily enough. Anyone could break into a bank. Many successfully broke into Gringotts for ages. It was getting out that no one had ever done.

There were age old, powerful detection and defense charms in place. Once intruders were detected—and they always were-- pursuers would follow and the tunnels would shut down.

To gain more intel, Grimm and Norse traveled to the leader’s distant relative. Someone she knew, who had personally worked in the Gringotts banks.

“Thank you for having us, Mr. Weasley.”

“Of course,” Bill politely replied. “Um….I’m sorry, but, who did you say you were again?”

Grimm smiled in her Polyjuiced older woman form. “My name is Gram and I work for the Ministry. We’re trying to find improvements Gringotts could make to their security. My assistant here is Norm.”

A pudgy, balding formed Norse gave Bill a wave. She hated this form the most.

It was a strange situation, to say the least.

A Polyjuiced Grimm and Norse were speaking to Bill Weasley, who was visiting the Burrow on vacation. Even though they were down in the dining room, they could hear Fred and George experimenting somewhere upstairs. Ron and Percy could be heard arguing. And a shy little Ginny peaked her head from the kitchen door from time to time.

“Sorry about the family. We’re a bit of a noisy lot,” Bill chuckled.

“Oh no. Nothing to mind at all.”

In fact, Grimm felt comforting nostalgia from being in the Burrow again. She had visited a few times to hang out with Charlie back in the day.

Grimm cleared her throat and reminded herself why she was really there.

“As you know, most _every_ magical resident in London uses Gringotts. Government funds are held in those vaults. We want to make sure they’re as safe as can be. Since you’ve worked there before, we were wondering if you could offer us some perspective. You know how the goblins are about their security. Very hush hush, even if we’re only trying to help.”

Bill nodded.

“Oh, I understand what you mean. But I don’t believe there are any improvements to be made. There’s been no successful thefts in the history of Gringotts. Even if the thieves break into the vaults and made off with the loot, they never have anywhere to go. There are stories of robbers being lost in the tunnels for months before eventually getting caught.”

“So what would you say were the _strong_ points of the security?”

“Hmmm. Well….” Bill pondered the question for a minute. “I suppose, it would be the enclosement. There’s just no escape once they’re in. Protocols dictate, in the event of a break in, the first action is to seal the entrance and fortify the doors. If the thieves seem particularly violent, they’ll reinforce the exits further, divert more personnel to the guard. They can catch thieves whenever they like, even choose to starve and wait them out, if it came to it. It’s practically foolproof.”

“……So you’re saying, if the intruders made a big enough splash on the entry, or were detected early on, the goblins would concentrate most of their resources on the exits?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Interesting,” Grimm commented.

_That definitely gives me an idea._

Struck by a moment of inspiration, the Forgiven leader busied herself with writing in her notebook for a while, when something interfered with her thoughts.

“Uh—Um? Mr. Norm, do you have questions for me?”

Grimm looked up from her paper and at the stumpy man beside her. Norse was gazing at Bill with seduction in her eyes. Grimm cringed.

 _“No, Norse! We are NOT doing this,”_ she communicated with Legilimens.

**_“I’m not sure of what you are speaking of.”_ **

_“He’s my relative. I forbid you from doing anything as your leader!”_

**_“But he is cute. I like his ponytail.”_ **

_“Ughhh….”_

Grimm spoke aloud to Bill. “Sorry. Ignore him. He’s…..gay and unprofessional.”

“Oh. Um. Oh, okay,” Bill shifted awkwardly.

After asking a few more questions about Gringotts, and Norse making suggestive gestures, Grimm thought to adjourn their interview.

“As a token of my appreciation, I’d like to leave some gifts for you and your family.”

“What? Oh, please. That’s not necessary.”

“No, Mr. Weasley, _I insist,_ ” Grimm pushed.

She was always grateful to the Weasleys and had come by too few opportunities to show it. The witch pulled a few random objects from her satchel, including some Muggle devices for Arthur. The last thing Grimm produced from her bag, she handed to Bill.

He opened the small box and saw that it was a pair of fang earrings.

When the last of their business concluded, the Forgiven bowed and took their leave. As they started walking away far enough to Apparate, Grimm couldn’t help but feel forlorn when she gave a second take of the house.

She wanted to stay longer. Ginny grew up cute and Grimm wanted to talk with her. Ron was getting ready to attend Hogwarts. Fred and George were still as mischievous as ever. Percy was an ever growing smart ass. Apparently, Charlie was in town too, but he was off with Arthur and Molly on some errand. It would have been nice to see them all and talk with them again.

Grimm bit the inside of her cheek and fought the urge. Fortunately, Norse was able to distract her almost instantly.

**“You never told me your relatives were so attractive.”**

“No, Norse. Norse, no. Bad! You don’t sleep with him. That’s an order!! He’s my relative. I _actually_ know him. Go fock someone I don’t know or care about!”

**“Fine….”**

“And why would you even…! There’s a HUGE age gap!”

Norse only laughed.

**“I could use a Polyjuice potion to make me the same age. Or I could be a grandma if that’s what he’s into.”**

“For the love of—Rein in your focking hormones! AGHHH!!! Now, I can’t stop imagining it. Norse! I’m going to _kill_ you.”

**“It is just sex. Perhaps your inexperience, or sexual frustration are the cause of this maltreatment.”**

“No, just you. You’re focked in the head. Geez….!” Grimm hissed. “….And I am _not_ sexually frustrated!”

**“That is unfortunate. If you ever do feel the urge, I am at your service~** **♥.”**

Norse threw an arm over Grimm, who was about to yell something but stopped herself.

“Maybe, if I ever feel like it.”

**“Really?!”**

Grimm slapped her palm on Norse’s face.

“I said _maybe._ Don’t get excited, you horny giant. But there’s one thing for sure.”

**“Hm? What is that?”**

Grimm looked the stumpy man up and down.

“No Polyjuice. If I’m going to have sex with you, I’m going to have sex with _you.”_

**“Really? I would have guessed you desired a Tonks—“**

Grimm squeezed Norse’s face, threatening to crush it.

“If you complete that sentence, you’ll really piss me off. Okay~♪?”

Norse nodded and drew a sloppily written,

**“Okay!”**

…

…

**“Liar can mix and match you know.”**

“What?”

**“He can make a Polyjuice for a male version of Tonks.”**

“I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You.” Grimm felt her mind squirm. “AND NOW I CAN’T GET THAT IMAGE OUT OF MY HEAD! WHAT THE HELL WOULD A MALE TONKS EVEN LOOK LIKE?!?!”

With great difficulty, the two successfully Apparated from the Burrow.

.

**********************

.

In the underground base, Grimm and Norse were playing Tetris, when Liar appeared from the portkey.

“Seriously?! You lot are playing Tetris without me?” the wizard yelled.

The two Forgiven left their spots on the tree and joined Liar.

“Where were you that took so long?” Grimm asked.

“Stealing our key to Voldemort’s vault, of course.”

“Steal? I thought you said the thing was in your possession.”

Liar tilted his head to the side.

“If I can steal it, doesn’t it make it mine?”

**“Only a thief would possess such logic.”**

“Good thing that’s exactly what we need, now are you going to let me show and tell, or bother me about proper pedantics?”

“Show and tell, Liar,” Grimm said in a tired tone. “How are you getting us into Voldemort’s vault when the Goblins can’t.”

“I’m glad you asked, Madames Grimm!”

From the inside of his cloak, Liar pulled out a gnarl hooked wand with a “Tada~♪”. The stick had an off color fade of white, and seemed to be constructed in sections like the separate bones of a finger. Even the shape was similar to finger pointing at something.

Liar handed the instrument to Grimm and Norse so they could have a closer look. The two instantly felt confounded by the weight of the wand. It was so much lighter than any of its kind they had ever held, and by the feel of it, more brittle. Both of the witches made eye contact with each other before facing Liar with an accusing expression.

“Liar….don’t tell me….”

“Oh, did you guess it already?”

Grimm handed the “wand” back to the wizard.

“As you two may suspect, _this_ ,” Liar presented like a theater magician. “—is our skeleton key. A very _literal_ skeleton key.”

Grimm and Norse grimaced at having their assumptions confirmed.

“Unlike most wands—and I’m not even too sure if this thing qualifies as such—this one is made out of _bone_. Goblin bone to be exact.”

“Alright, I’ll bite. How is that thing supposed to help us?”

“The Goblin finger it’s made from, is none other than the founder and builder of the Gringott Vaults _.”_ Liar paused for effect as Grimm and Norse were beginning to catch on. “You can imagine the applications now, yes? The original founder had unlimited access to the vaults. In the old days, the patrons didn’t have keys and completely relied on the Goblins to open their safety deposits for them.”

“So the skeleton key is a _literal_ skeleton key,” Grimm reiterated Liar’s earlier phrase.

“A clever old wizard once grave robbed the Gringott’s hand. He thought making a wand out of it would fake the owner’s signature and unlock any safe in the bank.”

“It can’t?”

“He had the right idea. But you have to remember, wands are conduits for the wielder’s magic. We don’t use the wand’s magic itself. Plus, Goblin sorcery is significantly different from Human’s,” Liar grinned. “But with some finesse, a little bit of practice, I should be able to imitate some Goblin magic, fake Gringott’s signature, and voila! Master key to the kingdom, as well as Voldemort’s vault.”

“That’s….actually brilliant. If you can pull it off, that is.”

“I know. I thought I set a high standard, but I really impressed myself with this one. I do believe this is worthy of a round of applause.”

Grimm and Norse rolled their eyes and began clapping slowly and softly.

“Thank you! Thank you! Alright. I can get us into the vault, nick whatever goodies are inside– _maybe_. But what about the rest?”

“Norse found us a way to travel the tunnels fast and without relying on carts or Goblins. As for the entrance and exit strategies….I’ve got the broad strokes in mind.”

Grimm gave a brief overview of what she had planned. When she finished, Norse gave an approving smile, while Liar shook his head at the audacity of it.

“Bold and deadly risky. I doubt I could ever come up with something like that. How very like you.”

_“Wouldn’t be much fun otherwise….”_

 

 


	18. Liar's Poor Pinky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Forgiven are breaking into Gringotts and Voldemort's Vault

** Chapter 18 – Liar’s Poor Pinky **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven. Grimm, Liar, and Norse have finished making preparations for their heist of Gringotts._

_._

_._

_(In the Underground Base)_

_._

Grimm downed a whole mug of black coffee in one go. She could feel the bitter caffeine hone the edges of her mind. The Forgiven leader needed her brain functioning at top gear for what came next. She looked to each side of her and saw Norse knocking back a shot of Fire Whiskey and Liar smoking a cigarette. They all had their own pre-mission rituals she supposed.

“Everyone ready?”

Norse silently strapped a large knapsack over her shoulder and nodded. Liar took one burn of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground.

“Masks on,” Grimm ordered.

They slid steel masks over their faces, bearing similar resemblance to ornate knight helmets. Each of them were intricately forged with an animal visage in mind. Grimm’s was a fox, Norse’s was a bird, and Liar’s a lizard.

“Take us out, Liar.”

“Bodyslide for three,” he grinned.

The Forgiven felt a great swooping sensation as they were sucked into a vacuum and slipped out into the middle of Diagon Alley. In front of them stood Gringotts Bank, the most heavily, fortified establishment in the world with a reputation to match—but not for much longer, maybe.

The three Forgiven held their wands out, and blasted the doors open. On brooms, they flew past the receptionist lobby and into the back, making for the entrance to the tunnels.

Guards tried to stop them. Both human and goblin workers pointed all manner of wand and weapons at the intruders. Spells flew, but missed their marks. With the Forgiven’s element of surprise combined with their ridiculous speed, it was only given the bank workers were not able to respond with their best.

Norse, who was in charge of the route, flew in the lead; followed by Liar and then Grimm. As they passed through the preliminary parts of the building, they stunned and blasted as many employees as they could. As unfortunate as it was for the workers, the injuries were nowhere near lethal or too severe.

The plan was to make a scene large enough to concentrate a majority of Gringotts’ resources at the entrance. This would delay the sortie of pursuers and provide more time for the Forgiven to crack the vault and escape.

As Norse finally reached the entrance of the tunnels, her broom lost all ability of flight.

They had entered the no fly zone, where anti-flight charms were cast all throughout the underground section. Norse jumped from her falling broom and rolled upon hitting the rock solid floor. Liar and Grimm did the same.

The three evaluated their surroundings with a careful eye. Dark brown and black colored the insides of the tunnels. There was little light revealing the pathways and vault doors. Train carts sat at the ready for anyone needing transport. Although the place was huge, it felt stagnant and suffocating at the same time.

“They’ll be pulling sentries to the entrance. No pursuers for a while.” Grimm turned to the almost pitch dark tunnels and frowned. “A lot darker than I remember.”

“What’s wrong, our brave and fearless leader? Afraid of the dark?” Liar teased.

Grimm ignored him and addressed her actual concern.

“Norse, you’ll be alright on navigation? I won’t be able to provide much light.”

**“I have the layout committed to memory. Moving through would be as easy if it were completely dark.”**

“Cocky, girl,” Grimm smirked. “Alright then, moving on to Phase Two.”

Norse morphed into her penguin form, and mentally voiced.

 **_“Slide~_ ** **_♪_ ** **_”_ **

**.**

***********************

**.**

The Forgiven barreled down the tunnels at blinding speed. They were probably moving faster than if they had used the train carts.

The Penguin-morphed Norse was sliding on her belly. Her wand nestled in her beak was casting a frost spell, which glazed everything in her path with an icy sheet. The slippery surface and the smooth bird stomach allowed them to travel as fast as if they were falling.

Sitting atop the penguin’s back was the large knapsack Norse carried with her, and on top of that was Grimm and Liar. The Forgiven leader was morphed into her fox form, while Liar was perched on her back, in his gecko form. In Grimm’s teeth, was her wand, which controlled a shining ball of light that bounced in front of their party, partially lighting the way they traveled.

For a few minutes, the Forgiven sped through the tunnels like this. Though, they were on mission, the three of them couldn’t help but enjoy how fun it was.

Barreling down the underground channels was like riding a rollercoaster. Combined with the adrenaline of stealing; Grimm, Liar, and Norse, were experiencing something of a euphoric high. It was absolutely thrilling.

They banked hard into the turns. Sometimes sliding high enough, they looped around the ceiling. They jumped gaps as wide as small canyons. Their hearts leapt with every daring maneuver.

But as quickly as the thrills came, so too did it vanish.

Grimm, Norse, and Liar prepared themselves for the upcoming section. According to the maps, there was an unavoidable juncture coming up ahead. They needed to pass through it to get to Voldemort’s vault. The problem was the possible dragon resting there.

Sometimes it was there, sometimes it wasn’t. Several dragons patrolled the depths, while others stayed stationary. The Forgiven’s intel didn’t reveal which this one was.

 _“I’m betting twenty Galleons it’s there,”_ said Liar.

Grimm frowned mentally.

 _“You really want to bet_ against _us?”_

**_“Thirty Galleons.”_ **

_“Good on you, Norse. Fifty! Come now, Grimm. We’re already gambling with our lives. Might as well gamble_ on _them too.”_

_“……..A hundred it’s there. Bad feeling, it’s there.”_

_“Always the cynical bet.”_

**_“Is it too late to change my wager, Liar?”_ **

_“What? Why?”_

**_“_** _B **ecause Grimm’s instincts for misfortune are always correct,”**_ Norse lamented.

_“…….Shite.”_

The three reached the end of the tunnel and came upon the juncture. It was like the insides of a hollowed out tower. Cylindrical in shape with various cave entrances lining the walls.

And in the middle of it all was a vicious looking dragon. The beast seemed frayed, but still dangerous. Fire glowed in the reptile’s stomach and its semi-torn wings unfurled wide enough to blot out what little light there was.

When the Forgiven tried to maneuver around it, flames poured down their path. Norse veered away and lost all of her speed and momentum. The penguin morphed back into her witch form and brandished her wand, preparing to do battle with the dragon. Liar and Grimm also returned to their original forms, wands out at the ready.

Because they were connected through Legilimens, the Forgiven leader read into the panicked minds of her comrades. Norse wanted to fight to the death. Liar was thinking of a way for them all to escape. Grimm sighed and remembered why _she_ was chosen to lead the Forgiven, and not them.

With sound mind and determination, the small, blue haired witch steadied her breathing. Feet squared forward and stable. Wand gripped firm and focused. Every millimeter of her posture exuded solidarity and strength.

Grimm drew eyes with the colossal dragon with an equally powerful glare.

_“Imperio.”_

The word was spoken low, but it echoed the cave’s walls. Grimm’s will shadowed the beast’s mind and fought to conquer its soul. Never breaking eye contact for even a moment, in the face of the monstrous creature that could end her with a single breath, or a swipe of its claws.

A single bead of sweat traced Grimm’s face. Her breathing was slow and methodical. Unmoved, she was as she forced the Imperius curse on the dragon, fighting for every millimeter of territory. Though, she looked calm and unperturbed, her eyes burned with a ferocity unlike any other.

Finally, she relaxed.

Liar and Norse calmed at seeing the vacant eyes of the dragon. After several years of knowing her, their leader continued to annoyingly impress them.

Grim breathed a deep breath and flashed the two a smile.

“Well…that was exciting. Let’s move on, shall we?”

.

**********************

.

The Forgiven entered a grand hall, which at the end, they could see the door to Voldemort’s vault. Lining the walls were more than twenty carved knights standing at almost two stories tall. Unlike the tunnels they passed through, great blazing torches lit every corner of this room. The three robbers moved nervously through the way.

**“This does not bode well…”**

“No. No, it doesn’t. Didn’t need you to _literally_ spell that out, Norse,” Liar chuckled as he brushed the floating words away.

“VIP vault. The best safety deposit Gringotts has to offer, which includes— _surprise_ —unrecorded, additional security. Wonderful….” Grimm commented with a bitter tone.

They all eyed the knight statues with increasing paranoia. Every one of them, dwarfing the intruders and carrying a giant weapon to match. Swords and spears all pointed towards the center path.

**“Tis not foreboding at all.”**

“Indeed. But for now, it doesn’t look like they pose a threat.”

Liar picked up a rock and chucked it at one of the statues. It shattered on a knight’s helmet, but the sculpture did not respond. Norse loosened up a bit upon the test.

 _“Phase three. My turn~_ _♪”_

The Forgiven strode to the end of the hall and stopped in front of Voldemort’s vault. Liar kneeled down and pulled out his Skeleton Key. A few taps and some wand waving followed, probing and testing the door’s defenses.

While their resident thief was busy with the lock picking, Norse and Grimm stood guard behind him. Their wands pointed at the ready, and Norse’s knapsack at their feet.

_*BANG!*_

“Oops.”

Grimm and Norse turned around with a start.

**_““’OOPS’?!””_ **

“The lock’s a _touch_ more complicated than I had initially anticipated.”

“Liar…” Grimm growled.

“Okay, okay. _A significant_ more complicated than I initially anticipated.”

The stone sentinels began moving from their nooks in the walls.

 **“** Liar…!”

Liar was no longer listening and cut off his Legilimens to fully concentrate on the lock. He also pulled out a pair of earphones and plugged one into each ear.

“Pressure♪! _Pushing down on me~ Pushing down on you~_ _♪_ No man asks for!” he sang along to his music.

Meanwhile, Norse and Grimm were trying to blast the titanic statues away, as one by one, they woke from hibernation.

_“Bombarda Maxima!”_

**_“Bombarda Maxima!”_ **

Great boulders flew apart as the two Forgiven launched exploding spell after exploding spell at the stone behemoths. Their legs, fracturing under them, caused them to fall under their own weight. Arms crumbled and dropped their weapons.

Contrary to their first thoughts, defeating the golems was not difficult. They possessed daunting size, but it made them huge targets. Grimm and Norse began thinking they could very well neutralize the threat without much problem.

….That was, until the stone soldiers began regenerating.

Like time rewinding backwards, the rocks that were blown apart glowed and returned to the statues’ bodies. Also, it may have been the Forgiven’s imagination, but the sentries seemed to be moving _faster_.

Behind them, they heard a sudden,

_*Shik*_

“Oops.”

“Liar! If you say that one more time…”

“….”

“Liar? What’s going on back there?”

 _*Cough cough*_ “Nooooothing,” the wizard called back.

Grimm and Norse knew it wasn’t nothing. The coughing was something they were especially sensitive to.

“What is it?”

“I’m fine! Almost got it. Nothing to fret over. Totally nothing bad happened just now!”

Grimm grimaced.

“You’ve got three more minutes, or I’m calling this off.”

“Plenty of time…Three minutes! _*Cough*”_

Grimm refocused on the golems in front of her. Norse’s thoughts flowed into her mind.

**“ _They will only continue to regenerate! I advise a change in tactics!”_**

Norse’s arm tensed as she drew a wide slashing motion.

**_“Gladii Abscindere!!”_ **

A jagged wave formed in her wake, and soared at the legs of all the statues. The sentries’ feet were torn and slashed from under them. Their upper torsos fell to the ground with an earth shattering quake.

 _“Hastas Affigo!!”_ Grimm roared, thrusting her wand like a sword.

The spell cast with a howling wind. Her targets were punctured full of holes and flew into the walls and floor. There, they were pinned by invisible spears, effectively stopping their movements.

Both of the witches’ wands splintered, and they deftly drew new ones out to replace them.

The giants were stalled for the moment, but still lumbered on. It was only a matter of time before they regained their mobility and attacked again. The Forgiven would need something _more._

Norse glanced at the knapsack at her feet. Grimm also thought the same, but shook her head.

“Only as a last resort. We need as many shots as we can for the escape,” she muttered.

_If only Liar would just hurry up and–_

The two felt a gust of wind blow from behind them. They turned to see Liar finally manage to open the vault. Grimm and Norse caught a glimpse of the inside and saw it was mostly empty. They fought the urge to look. At the moment, they had to concentrate on fighting the sentries, more than anything.

They could hear Liar running into the vault with panted breath. It sounded like picking the lock took a lot out of the wizard.

 _“Are you focking with me?!”_ his thoughts reverberated from the inside.

Legilimens was reestablished and Grimm responded.

_“What?! What’s in there? Don’t tell me there’s nothing! That would be just perfect…”_

_“There’s **something** , but—Whatever, I’ve got it. Let’s bug the hell out of this bloody hole!!”_

Liar appeared out of the vault, clutching his bleeding right hand. Grimm and Norse stared at the small trickle of crimson that flowed from his wound. The wizard detected their thoughts and shamefully revealed his hand.

He was missing his pinky.

“I lost it while I was picking the lock, okay?! Not a big deal, but I could use some help with the bleeding.”

Grimm closed her gaping mouth and grit her teeth.

“This is gonna hurt.”

“You don’t say—Ahhh!!”

Grimm singed the bleeding nub and closed the wound with burns. She then added a layer of healing and protection to it, but that was all she could manage for the moment. Regrowing it would take at least a day.

“Good to go?”

“FArk, that smarts!”

“Yeah, you’re good to go.”

Grimm grabbed Liar by the arm and joined Norse.

Together, they turned towards the exit and the statues stalking towards them. They lifted their wands in unison and incanted together.

**_“””REDUCTO!!!”””_ **

Three blares of scarlet enveloped the chamber. The top halves of the golems disintegrated into nothing but dust. Though, as powerful as the spell was, the silt-like particles were already beginning to reform into their original structures. But enough time was bought for the Forgiven to run past them.

.

** ****************** **

.

Down, down, down, the three flew into the tunneling depths.

They had taken to their Animagus forms, Liar and Grimm riding on Norse’s penguin back. Following them were the stone golems, who had shaped themselves into giant boulders. The scene looked very much like something out of an old adventure movie.

Though, the sentinels were slower, there were more of them. And they continuously attempted to surround the intruders by using various routes. The odd thing was, the Forgiven weren’t trying to reach the surface, but going deeper and deeper into the vaults. Which was also a good thing, because if they were trying to move uphill, the golems would surely catch them.

_“You’ve explained this part to me a thousand times, but it still sounds insane,” Liar voiced telepathically._

_“Which is why Phase Four will work. The Goblins never thought anyone would try this,” Grimm answered._

**“ _Shall we wager on it?”_**

They could feel Norse give a hearty laugh along with the question.

_“Oh, fock all! Two hundred we don’t make it?”_

**_“Three hundred, we do!”_ **

Norse and Liar turned their thoughts to Grimm.

Their leader flashed them a fierce smile.

_“Five hundred, we make it!!”_

The Forgiven reached the end of the lowest tunnel of Gringotts. Out of a cavern wall, the three flew out. Below them was a hole measuring at least a hundred yards in diameter with no bottom in sight. To the naked eye, the chasm looked like an endless fall into the abyss, but Grimm knew better.

They morphed back into their human forms as they plummeted free fall into the darkness. Liar and Norse started blasting parts of the wall apart and constructing a shell from the debris. While they did so, Grimm opened the knapsack and dug into its contents.

With a cartoonish sort of flare, a great cannon larger than the bag it was stored in was whipped out. It was the kind of artillery usually placed on a fortress or a pirate ship. Apparently, the weapon was used in an ancient magical war, and the Forgiven had “procured” the antique on one of their missions.

Grimm zeroed in the sights and made sure the alignment was correct. She then lit a fire at the end of her wand and touched it to the cannon’s fuse. The witch pulled the rope with a hard jerk.

_*Boom*_

Artillery fire roared as the magic shell was shot into the abyss below. A few moments passed, before they heard a distant echo of the projectile impacting some manner of surface.

Grimm reloaded the cannon and fired it again.

_*Boom*_

This repeated itself a few more times. The Forgiven gaining more and more momentum in their free fall, while the sound of the exploding surface approached closer and closer. Nervousness began setting into the three, but then they saw it.

Lava began spouting from the bottom of the hole. Its glow like a small, distant sun.

Grimm looked to the sides of her and saw Liar and Norse finished constructing their protective shell. The two joined their halves, leaving a pocket sized hole facing up. Inside, the three pointed their wands at the opening.

“This is insane.”

“I’ll hear your complaints later, Liar.”

“This is mad!”

**“This is wicked fun.”**

**“** I think I’m going to shite myself.”

“Not in here, you’re not,” Grimm barked. Secretly, she made a small prayer. “ _If there’s a god up there—Please, please, I beg you…._

_…Stay the FOCK out of our way!”_

The three Forgiven tensed their hands and concentrated on their magic.

**_“””VENTUS MAXIMA!!!”””_ **

Wind surged from their wands and propelled their shell faster down into the pit.

With a great splash, they hit the molten lava and descended into its depths. Norse quickly sealed the hole in the shell to prevent the lava from entering. Long, tense moments passed—every second more grueling than the last. All the while, they dove ever deeper into the underground volcano’s depths.

“Are we there yet?” Grimm groaned.

They could hear the lava bubbling outside the shell.

“Not….yet….!” Liar answered.

**“How about…now?”**

“Not…helping, Norse!!”

The wizard’s eyes were closed in deep concentration.

“Now? Are we out of the anti-apparition zone, yet? Check now, Liar.”

“Honestly…! If the both of you would just—“

Their reprieve came without warning. They didn’t even feel the vacuum sensation when Liar Apparated them outside of Moody’s house.

All three collapsed on the poorly kept lawn. Their nerves completely shot and their bodies, which were taut throughout the ordeal, finally gave out.

For a while, Grimm, Liar, and Norse, just laid there. Their clothes were in complete rags. They threw off the masks they were wearing. Dirt and soot covered their faces. The three basked in their tired silence. None of them wanting to meet the Forgivers downstairs, who eagerly awaited their report.

“So what the hell was in the vault?” Grimm finally mustered the breath.

Liar began digging around his cloak. While he did so, he groaned.

“I just remembered, I’m missing my focking _pinky_.”

Grimm and Norse laughed and coughed at their friend’s misfortune.

The wizard tiredly pulled out the prize of their heist and held it up for the others to see. Grimm eyed the object with confusion, and then scorn.

“A goblet… We did all that….for a _bloody, FOCKING_ goblet.”

She smacked her face.

 **“It isn’t even that big!”** Norse exclaimed, while grabbing it.

“Well, it’s probably some evil, stupid, _death_ cup if it was in Voldemort’s vault,” Liar said bitterly. “Asshole goblet. Gaudy, overly decorated, piece of shite. Can hardly believe his great and evil darkness owned something like this.”

“A shame you’ll never have a fancy drink with his Lord Voldiness.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you can’t do the fancy pinky thing anymore.”

Norse punched Grimm’s arm, as she contorted with tears in her eyes. Her silent laughter threatened to rupture her gut.

“Too early?” Grimm questioning Liar’s silence.

“No! I’m just ashamed I didn’t think to make the joke first!... _*Sigh*_ Rest in peace, little friend,” the wizard lamented, as he held his bloodied nub to the sky.

“May Liar’s pinky rest in peace.”

**“And take its place in pinky Valhalla!”**

.

.

** Explaining the Escape **

Writing this in case how they escaped wasn’t clear.

Gringotts is an anti-apparation zone. There are charms and all sorts of security preventing one from tunneling in or out of the tunnels. Except the bottom, which is without anti-tunneling measures, because it’s full of lava. “Why would anyone try to Apparate in or out of lava?” the Goblins thought.

So the Forgiven exploited that weakness and sank into the molten area, far enough to leave the anti-apparation zone, and that’s how they were able to teleport out.


	19. Taking It Easy

** **

 

** Chapter 19 – Taking It Easy **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven. Grimm, Liar, and Norse successfully broke in and out of Gringotts as well as loot Voldemort’s Vault. Their prize: a certain, modest looking goblet._

_._

_._

In the library section of their underground base, Grimm, Norse, and Liar sat at a small study table. The object of their attention—sitting between the three—was their heist’s boon; an ornately decorated goblet.

Grimm grabbed the cup and began flipping it through the air.

“This _has_ to be valuable, yeah?”

Liar flipped through an open tome listing artifacts and stopped on a certain page.

“Ah ha! See that carving of the badger there? It indicates this cup originally belonged to Helga Hufflepuff.”

 **“”Oooo~h…””** Norse and Grimm awed with newly found interest. **“”And?””**

“Hm? And what?”

“Well, what does it _do_?” The witch drummed her fingers on the side of the goblet.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it belonged to one of the founding witches of Hogwarts so it must _do_ something, yeah?”

Liar scanned the book again.

“….No. I’m afraid the text indicates no special characteristics. It appears to be nothing more than a gaudy, boringly ugly cup.”

 **“Perhaps it is unbreakable,”** Norse suggested, as she readied her wand to blast it.

Grimm and Liar instantly jumped at her arm and wrestled with her for five minutes before she gave up on her test.

“But if it’s an artifact Voldemort was keeping, maybe we _should_ destroy it-- Norse! Stop! I said, ‘maybe’.”

“It is likely unwise to blindly destroy it….” Liar continued to tap the edges of the cup with his wand. “At least not without knowing its _true_ purpose. There is definitely something curious about it, though….”

“Is it alive? Have we hurt its feelings with all our insults and disappointment?”

“Haha, that _would_ be curious, indeed,” Liar chuckled. “My findings have produced absolutely zero traces of magic on the artifact.”

**“And that is curious?”**

“ _Absolutely zero_ traces of magic,” he emphasized. “We’ve all handled it, I’ve tried placing some charms, some curses, and without exception, it remains unmarked by any measure of sorcery. It’s as if the object _itself_ is trying to hide anything magical about it.”

All three observed the cup with a great amount of apprehension.

Grimm took it in her hands again and squinted.

“…..I’m becoming more and more inclined to let Norse destroy it.”

“Evidence for the action is becoming increasingly substantial.”

Norse began to roll up her sleeves.

_“I do hope you are not about to do what you appear you are about to do.”_

The three Forgiven turned around to see Dumbledore walking towards them, Mad Eye and Kingsley in tow.

Grimm shrugged.

“It’s a test.”

“A test that may destroy the only real piece of evidence leading to You-know-who,” Moody growled.

Dumbledore stuck his palm out to Grimm with an open gesture. For a second, the small witch considered if it would be better to keep the cup under their own supervision. But the pros and cons weighed in her thoughts, and dictated differently.

She squeezed the goblet briefly, and then placed the artifact in Dumbledore’s hand.

“I will make sure to keep it safe,” he assured her.

“Hold you to that, Albus.”

Kingsley coughed. As was his attempt to clear the tension growing in the room—a habit he was developing as of late.

“As important as you-know-who’s artifact may be and how it came to be in his possession, it seems to have no bearing on his more _immediate_ motives. We have urgent matters to discuss.”

“You’ve found Nicholas Flamel?”

Dumbledore gently shook his head.

“Still in the wind, I’m afraid. My old friend does loves his solitude.”

“Gringotts is refusing to increase security measures….” Kingsley answered.

….

 ** _“””What?”””_** the Forgiven mouthed in unison.

“…..and have chose to keep your break-in, a secret.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I wish I were, Grimm.”

“So we just did all that _for nothing_?”

“We have the cup.”

“Fock the cup!” Liar yelled. “I lost my pinky!”

The wizard waved his bandaged nub that they were unable to regenerate.

The Forgivers sighed and waited for the Forgiven to vent some of their frustrations. When the yelling subsided and Grimm looked into the patient faces of their elders, a bad feeling crept over her.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

 _*Ahem*_ Dumbledore cleared his throat

“Since your work has exposed several vulnerabilities in the security, we are moving the Sorceror’s Stone to a safer location.”

“…..Hogwarts,” Grimm murmured with a hint of nostalgia.

“That would be correct. The Stone’s primary transportation has been entrusted to Hagrid. Along with another matter of import. Before acquiring the Stone, Hagrid will be escorting Harry Potter to Diagon Alley.”

The air went bitter and silent. The weight of Dumbledore’s words fell heavy, not only on the Forgiven, but also his fellow Forgivers.

“We’re on protective detail for the Sorceror’s Stone….AND….Harry Potter,” Grimm spoke with a stiff tone.

The wizened wizard nodded slowly.

“That is correct.”

“Quit gaping and form up! Conditions change and you are to adapt, simple as that!” Moody scolded. “The Forgivers—besides Albus—will be on this assignment as well. No one knows the Stone will move except for Hagrid and those in this room. Even the Professors at Hogwarts won’t know a damn thing until it’s already in the school.”

“And the little ‘boy who lived’?” Grimm asked.

“He’s been kept isolated and secret from the rest of our world. Threat on that front should be minimal. But don’t let your guard down. You are to always exercise—”

 ** _“”Constant Vigilance!””_** the Forgiven finished.

Grimm closed her eyes and folded her arms. Her Mentor’s reasoning was sound. There was always risk for assassination, but no one had seen the boy for years. No pictures, no appearances. Conspiracy theorists have went as far as assuming he would never return to the magical side of the world for fear of his life. Potter was so removed from the Wizarding World, some doubted whether he existed at all. The crazier theorists suggested “Harry Potter” was not an actual person, but a code named weapon used by Dumbledore.

“No one knows about him? No information leaks about his arrival or anything?”

Moody grunted. “No one. Only Hagrid. Potter will draw some attention when he steps into Diagon Alley, yes, but no one knows his appearance, save his likeness to his parents and the lightning bolt scar on his head.”

“Ah, yes. The famous scar. Hopefully the prat can keep from flashing it around,” Liar commented.

**“Protecting a boy and a rock. Should be an easier task than breaking into Gringotts.”**

The Forgivers and Forgiven exchanged further information, meted out the finer details. And after a few more hours of talks, Dumbledore, Kingsley, and Moody took their leave. Grimm ran her finger along the map placed in front of them, double-and-triple checking their routes to make sure there were as little vulnerabilities as possible.

“Harry Potter is going to school. The fabled secret weapon against Voldemort,” Liar jested.

**“I thought _we_ were the secret weapon against Voldemort.”**

“We are, Norse. You really think Potter has a role to play in all this? He’s ten,” their leader responded without looking up from the map.

“Albus seems to think so,” Liar blurted.

Grimm and Norse immediately turned to him.

“What? I took a _teeny_ peek into his mind. Made sure he didn’t notice.”

**“You are certain you avoided detection?”**

“Yup! Couldn’t mine for anything deep, but I did manage to skim the surface,” Liar bragged. “And I can tell you two right now, the man has plans. BIG. JUICY. ONES. And Potter’s in them.”

**“You think the boy is to save us from Voldemort a _second_ time?”**

“Who knows…. Any thoughts, boss?”

Norse and Liar shifted their attentions to Grimm, who was in deep contemplation.

“…..Wouldn’t put it past Albus to raise some traumatized kid as a weapon against Voldemort.”

The other two laughed.

“This is one of the scenarios we’ve expected. If it’s any of the people on our side, or Harry Potter, who gets raised as the hero against Voldemort, it’s the Forgiven who’ll need to set it up. It’s going to be us, who do the shadow and blood work.” Grimm bit her scarred lip and grimaced. “We’ve experienced the War firsthand, and the second one will be even worse. Without the Forgiven, our side _will_ lose. And if Potter really is the one to save us all….he’ll need us, whether he knows it, or not.”

.

******************

.

_The next day…_

Mad Eye, Kingsley, and the Forgiven made their last preparations before dawn arrived. While they did so, Moody addressed them.

“I know I don’t have to tell you again, but I’m telling you again! Do. Not. Be. Seen.”

“Your break into Gringotts has been hidden from public eye, but the Ministry knows about it,” Kingsley added. “An Auror task force has been assembled to investigate.”

“How serious is it?” Grimm asked.

“You three are officially unofficially the most wanted criminals in the Wizarding World,” Moody grunted. “Does that sound serious enough?”

Liar rewrapped the bandages around his nub. “But they are unawares as to who we are?”

“Yes,” Kingsley answered.

“Even so, we are the most wanted fugitives in the world.”

“Yes.”

“Huh. I’m strangely proud of us,” the young man broke into a wide grin, which quickly shrunk under Moody’s intense glare.

“Even if no one’s seen your faces, you will take every precaution!” Mad Eye inhaled for another tirade.

 ** _“””Constant Vigilance!”””_** The three timed their words with his and began laughing. Even Kingsley cracked a smile.

“So who’s heading the task force?” Grimm couldn’t help but ask.

Upon hearing the question, Kingsley’s mood did a complete reversal, as he gave a long and drawn out sigh. The Forgiven stood stalk still for a moment before understanding his silence.

Liar laughed.

“Really, Kingsley? Oh. That is perfect.”

“It is proving difficult to launch a fake investigation. Luckily, you three have left virtually no evidence to work off of. The Forgiven continues to thoroughly befuddle me and my team.”

“Hmph. And wouldn’t you guess who else is part of the task force.” Mad Eye looked directly at Grimm. “Tonks.”

The blue haired witch went slack jawed, as if it were knocked loose by a sudden brick. It took a few moments for the news to register, before she went into a sort of dream state. A goofy smile plastered itself across Grimm’s lips.

“Being captured by Tonks…That wouldn’t be so bad. Hehehe~♥” she mused with a young, girlish voice.

Strange images of bondage began filling the witch’s perverted mind. Meanwhile, her teammates stared at their leader with cringing looks.

**“I still find it disturbing the abrupt change Grimm’s personality takes when Tonks is concerned.”**

“Isn’t it? Normally, so bitter and cutthroat, but mention the subject of her affections and our leader transfigures into an idiotic blob of schoolgirl.”

**“Grimm’s catnip.”**

“Shut up, the both of you. It’s time to move out,” Grimm commanded in her normal tone.

And just like that, the Forgiven set out.

.

***********

.

Things were going according to plan. Hagrid picked Harry up from his aunt and uncle’s. The pair made their way across the Muggle cities and were about to enter Diagon Alley.

Throughout their journey, though they never caught a glimpse of them, were five secret protectors. Forgivers and Forgiven stalked their every step, rotating in and out as to not arouse suspicion. Sometimes they flew overhead and sometimes they walked right alongside the half giant and boy. Always moving, always careful, at least two pair of eyes on their targets at any time.

Once Harry and Hagrid entered Diagon Alley, things became a lot more hectic. Moody followed closely behind the two. His magic eye whirred as it alerted to every movement in the streets. He was their final line of defense should anything happen.

Ahead of them was Grimm, who acted as front guard and scout. She made sure the route ahead of the party was safe, and gave any warnings of potential dangers. Bringing up the rear, was Kingsley. The Auror made sure Hagrid and Harry’s backs were safe and no one suspicious followed them.

Norse and Liar acted as side sentries for a while, but eventually moved to make sure nothing surprising came out of Knockturn alley.

News spread of Harry Potter’s appearance at the Leaky Cauldron. Gossip mongers and admirers began parroting the news of “The Boy Who Lived”. Naturally, this information reached the ears of – _shadier_ individuals.

Good and bad, Norse and Liar began warding off any who approached. The Forgiven were granted full permission to do whatever it took to keep people from crowding Harry and Hagrid. The pair went on the preventative offense; Obliviating memories and sometimes conjuring walls to stop anyone from pursuing their party. A few times, Liar Imperiused some violent individuals from Knockturn alley into fighting amongst themselves.

The escort went on smoothly until they reached another critical juncture. Hagrid picked up the Sorceror’s Stone and separated from Harry. At the same time, their protective detail also split up to guard their own respective targets.

Moody, Kingsley, and Grimm followed Hagrid to make sure the Stone made its way to Hogwarts. The Norse and Liar team were to continue guarding Harry until he safely made it back home.

Not much later, Gringotts would experience their second break in. Voldemort and Professor Quirrell would find their way into the vaults to steal the Sorceror’s Stone, but leave empty handed. The Dark Lord and his servant would have to find another way to produce the Elixir of Life. One such method lay with the famed Alchemist: Nicholas Flamel.

.

*****************

.

The Dursleys had moved back home, and Harry stood on the front yard of the house.

The boy had the strangest feeling that someone watching him. He quickly turned around only to find a _small gecko_ perched on his Uncle’s car window. Seeing as nothing was really out of ordinary, the boy entered the house. That night, he would dream of Hogwarts and magic. Longing for the day he would be out from under the Durselys and begin his studies of wizardy.

Liar and Norse watched Harry enter the safety of the house, before moving out. As they strolled down the street, Liar observed the Muggle residences and chatted.

“Muggle houses…all boring, all the same, it’s enough to drive one mad,” he commented with a drab voice.

Norse didn’t show any kind of response.

“They’re all lined up like copies of each other. Farm animals live more creatively.”

**“…”**

“You could probably tip one over and they’d all topple like dominoes. Really _boring_ dominoes or cows standing side by side.”

**“…”**

“Alright! What’s wrong? You’ve had that stiff upper lip for a while now. And you’re writing less than usual, which makes me look like a bigger loon because I am in fact talking to myself, instead of merely looking the part.”

Norse’s walking came to an abrupt stop. She stared all along the streets to make sure there were only Muggles in the area. Once she was sure they were clear and would be able to hold a private conversation, the witch faced Liar.

Her eyes seemed to reflect more light than normal with the setting sun. Her lips made a sharp curl down. Norse’s sorrow was sincere, most the same with any emotion she expressed. Always true, always powerful, and straightforth.

**“Today’s work was light. But it may not be so, next time.”**

“Um. Yes? Wouldn’t be Forgiven work, if it wasn’t. Hehe!”

**“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”**

“What is?”

 **“Do not play the fool!! Your condition! It is worsening!”** Norse scribbled angrily **. “Back at Gringotts, with the vault. Normally, you would never make such a mistake. Losing your finger so carelessly.”**

“What can I say? Gringott safes are nothing to scoff at.”

**“Do NOT lie to me!!......Do not lie to _us_ ….At least not us.”**

Liar massaged his neck and looked down. His brow wrinkled.

“……Geez, Norse, you big softy. Why couldn’t you just follow Grimm’s lead and pretend not to notice?”

**“Because she holds you in too high esteem. She respects you too much to address you as you should be.”**

“So you’re going to?”

**“Yes. I am.”**

“Norse…”

**“You are a fool and I worry about you.”**

“And what am I supposed to do? Not do the work? Not be a Forgiven? How will that play out, I wonder.”

**“You possess other methods of assistance. You need not strain yourself to the extent you are now.”**

“I AM NOT AS SOFT OR AS FRAGILE AS YOU THINK I AM!!” Liar exploded, not being able to hold his temper any longer. “I CAN HANDLE THE WORK, NO MATTER WHAT CONDITION I’M IN! I have seen you and Grimm bleed! Seen you two shatter bone, take a spit take, and fight on without so much as a breath in between! I _refuse_ to watch you two offer your lives for risk and not put forth my own!! After all these years—!.... You think I’m still not strong enough—not worth standing alongside yo—“

Norse enveloped Liar in her arms.

 **“That is your anger speaking for you. I know those words ring untrue. Do not hurt me with them.”** She hugged him tighter and Liar felt his legs lose strength. **“I love you, brother. Ever since our rescue of Kingsley and the Longbottoms have I ever been proud to stand at your side. To have your back, with you at mine, facing our adversities together. Never will I doubt your worthiness, your strength, or your heart. I know you.”**

Norse held Liar’s head in her hands and pressed her forehead to his.

**“No, brother. I love you, and that means I will do anything to keep you well. If I questioned your mettle, I would not bind myself to your fate, _but I do_.”**

Tears fell from her eyes.

**“Promise me, you will not be so foolish. Promise me….you will not risk your life so recklessly again, or gods help me, I will break your legs to keep you from leaving home.”**

Liar sniffed.

“……….Even if you did break my legs, I’m pretty sure I could ask Mad Eye to set me up with his peg leg man.”

They both gave a raspy laugh. Every other chuckle catching in their throats.

“I promise, Norse….No more foolishness…..Well. _overly_ foolishness.”

**“Your word, brother. Should your health ever—”**

“My word, sister.” This time, it was Liar who initiated the embrace. His hands grasped her broad back, as if begging Norse to say no more.

With a trembling voice that was barely louder than a hush, he said,

_“I love you too….”_

 

 

 

 


	20. A Promise Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Alice Longbottom's last sane sentence, she asked the Forgiven watch over Neville in her place. True to their word, Grimm, Liar, and Norse keep their promise.

** Chapter 20 – A Promise Kept **

.

_Previously on The Forgiven: After the Longbottoms were kidnapped and tortured, Alice Longbottom made one last request to the Forgiven before she losing her mind forever. She asked them to watch over her son, Neville, in her and Frank’s place._

.

.

Ever since the boy could remember, he had the strangest feeling he was being watched.

It would always happen in random instances. A trip to Diagon Alley, a visit to St. Mungo’s, or even as mundane a moment as when he tended to his grandmother’s garden. A slight tickle in the back of his neck or an out of place something that just didn’t quite fit.

At first, he thought it was his imagination. When the feeling persisted, he told his grandmother. She immediately overreacted and believed they were being targeted by dark Magi, who bore a grudge against Neville’s parents. A call was made to the famed Auror, Mad Eye Moody, who would later assure them that no such threat existed. Augusta accepted the answer and breathed a little easier, telling Neville he was only imagining things.

Still, the feeling persisted. He was often scolded by his grandmother for his lack of courage and ability, but he stood firm by this one belief.

Finally, he absolved to find a solution. To catch his would-be stalkers in the act. The question was how he would do it.

Neville had nothing to go on, but the slight prickling sensation of being watched. Whenever he turned around, there was never anything there to confirm his suspicions. Out of the corner of his eye, he would sometimes catch a phantom figure staring at him, but when he tried to get a better look, there would be nothing but empty space.

Whoever it was who watched him, they were deftly sneaky and elusive. Neville needed to be clever about his detections if he was to find his stalkers.

His first major breakthrough came in a most unexpected form….

.

**********************

.

Neville was having his regular haircut at a barbershop, when across the street, a peculiar pair of witches sat on standby.

Outside a humble café, drinking coffee and playing wizard’s chess, was Grimm and Norse. Both of them in the form of old men via Polyjuice Potion.

“I still can’t believe he’s Alice and Frank’s son….” Grimm mused.

**“That is a tad harsh.”**

“I mean, it’s like there’s no resemblance whatsoever.” Grimm moved a chess piece. “Check, by the way.”

Norse frowned.

 **“Hmmm. Perhaps he is a late bloomer,”** Norse suggested as she moved a piece.

Grimm countered immediately. “Check, again— But you have to show _potential_ to be a late bloomer. As far as I can see, Neville has none—as cold as that may sound.”

**“Some warriors must find themselves _in_ the battle, not outside of it. Many stories are there of those lame in practice, but alive in the fight.”**

“Was that the case for you?”

 **“No. I was courageous and gifted in combat from the womb!”** Norse wrote, while setting her queen down with extreme confidence.

And then Grimm ate it with her bishop. The chess figure with a long staff pierced Norse’s queen, lifted her up, and tossed her off the board mercilessly.

“Checkmate. That was a _terrible_ move.”

Norse’s king began to weep as she thumped the board in frustration.

**“I was distracted.”**

“By what?”

**“The waitress.”**

Grimm looked at the café worker through the window.

“Hmmm. I can see why. That barista uniform really accentuates her hips.”

**“I normally prefer a skirt but…”**

“The way the pants hug her legs and butt has its own appeal.”

**“And now she bends over another table….”**

“No wonder it was so easy to beat you. Remember why we’re here at least.”

**“One eye on Neville. Another on this maiden’s magnificently shaped buttocks.”**

**_“Norse, I don’t need you sending me images of some woman’s posterior through Legilimens,”_** Liar suddenly communicated.

_“Liar, what’s your status?”_

From the barbershop’s rooftop, the wizard gave his report.

_“Everything’s clear. All the side streets, buildings, and alleyways. Aside from the one instance of assassins, no else seems particularly concerned on getting revenge on the Longbottoms.”_

_“Let’s hope so. Do one more circle and we’ll head back. Neville’s haircut is finally done.”_

_“Another sweep it is…”_ Liar mentally groaned.

Grimm sipped the last contents of her black coffee and set the cup down with a satisfied breath. Norse took notice of it and began writing an urgent message.

**“If you’re finished with your cup, call the maiden for another!”**

“No, Norse. We’re done here. You can come back and bed her on your own time. Neville’s already finished and is about to leave.” She looked at the boy in the barbershop and frowned. “If he’d stop _staring_ so absentmindedly at that mirror. I mean his hair’s been done for………..ages….”

**“Hm…? Is something the matter?”**

“Wait….is he….” Grimm quickly established Legilimens with Liar. _“Hey, I need you to read Neville’s thoughts right now!”_

_“Yes? Well, sure…._

_…._

_….You’ve been made. He can see you two in the mirror’s reflection!”_

Grimm and Norse immediately stood up, dropped the money owed on the table, and promptly left. All the while, receiving updates on Neville’s thoughts.

_“The boy’s definitely noticed you two. He’s getting up to follow. I must say, I’m rather impressed.”_

_“How much does he suspect?”_

_“He’s **suspected** we’ve been watching him for a while and this instance confirmed it. Good going to the both of you. Made by an eight-year-old child.”_

_“Shut up. We’ve been watching him for practically his whole life. I’m surprised he didn’t notice sooner.”_

.

****************

.

It was a such a small thing for Neville.

Under normal circumstances, he would have chalked it up to nothing. But the way those old men stared at him, and their abrupt departure after they seemed to realize something. It all shouted they were the culprits he was after.

Neville practically leapt off the barber’s chair to chase after them. Unfortunately, as soon as he looked down the street, there was no longer any sign of the two. He would have to wait for another chance.

.

*****************

.

Every first Sunday of the month, Augusta and Neville’s day went like clockwork. They would have a nice early day special at a family restaurant. After that, a few hours of shopping and running errands. And by mid-afternoon, they visited Alice and Frank Longbottom at St. Mungo’s Psych Ward.

The family had a room reserved all to themselves in which the boy spent some time with his parents. After the visit, Neville and Augusta would head straight home to practice the boy’s spellcraft.

It was then, at the end of the Forgiven’s protective detail, the three would always head back to the hospital for their own personal visit to the Longbottom couple.

As they walked down the halls of St. Mungo’s , they came upon the receptionist desk. A small Imperius Curse later, one of the nurses moved the Longbottoms to their usual private room, where the Forgiven could meet without gathering attention.

It was the same every time.

As soon as the three entered the room, the Longbottoms’ faces would brighten ever so slightly with recognition. It was so comforting, but heartbreaking at the same time.

The Forgiven never used Polyjuice Potion when visiting them. They thought it was in some way, disrespectful to do such a thing. Naïve and sentimental it may be, it was a personal rule they lived by nonetheless.

In the bright, white walled room, Liar and Norse conversed as much as they could with the couple. While the two Forgiven were fairly intimate with them, Grimm was not.

The small, blue haired witch always gave a polite greeting, but left the room right after. It made her extremely uncomfortable to be around the Longbottoms in their present state. Her heart couldn’t bear to see them so—unlike what she had known.

She leaned against the door outside the room. Always excusing herself, telling Liar and Norse she would act as the lookout, but her comrades knew her reasons. They didn’t like it, but they never pressed the issue.

On their first visit ever, Grimm stared at the Longbottoms for a good three minutes, before speaking in a shaken voice, “That’s not them”, and leaving the room.

It was cruel.

It was selfish.

Grimm knew this.

So until Norse and Liar were done, the leader of the Forgiven stood outside, expression heavy with guilt.

…

_“Is that what you really look like?”_

Grimm looked to the side of her, where the small voice came from and found Neville staring right at her.

For a few seconds, Grimm wondered if she should Obliviate his memory. Meanwhile, the boy held the young woman under a timid, but intense gaze. Finally, the witch shrugged.

_It was going to happen anyway. Might be better that he knows. Easier to protect him. Even if he tells someone, they probably won’t believe him, much less catch us._

After Grimm’s thought, she turned to Neville and spoke.

“How did you find us?”

Neville looked down at his feet and shifted nervously.

“I always felt like you were watching when Gran and I visited Dad and Mum.”

“Hm. And you assumed we visited them after you and Augusta leave?”

Neville gave a small nod.

“Huh.”

The two stood in silence for a while. Grimm could tell the boy had a thousand questions to ask, but was too timid to ask them. She wondered if she should be the first to speak, but cringed at the idea.

The witch hated situations like these. Her words always carried a sharp tone for those like Neville. An impulse she never bothered to curb or check.

_*Sigh* Norse and Liar are better at these things than I am._

Grimm moved from leaning on the door to leaning on the wall. She pointed to the room with her thumb.

“Talk to the two inside, they can explain it.”

“There are….three of you?”

“….Yeah. There’s three of us.”

Neville repeatedly looked from the door to Grimm, not sure what to do. The boy’s hesitant nature began annoying her again. Impatience reached its breaking point when she sternly spoke.

“Or _don’t_ go inside. It doesn’t matter.”

Neville looked like he was on the brink of crying. Whether it was due to fear or the tone in Grimm’s voice, it was uncertain. But right before he was about to break, the boy stiffened his upper lip.

With shaking knees and trembling hands he walked in front of the door and began turning the knob. It felt like it took an eternity for Neville to cross the small doorway, but once he had, he felt relief.

Upon entering the room, the boy saw the soft expressions of his parents matching those of Liar and Norse. Unlike Grimm, her two accomplices looked far more approachable. They were surprised at first, to be sure, but quickly put on a welcoming air. After the door made a small shut behind him, Grimm held a hand over her face.

Her cheeks tightened as her expression contorted with shame.

_What the hell am I doing…? Getting upset and taking it out on that kid. As if life isn’t cruel enough for him already…._

_…._

_…I’m the worst._

 


	21. Truth in the Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Forgiven make sure the little ankle biters get safely to Hogwarts

** Chapter 21 – Truth In The Pain **

.

_Previously on The Forgiven: The Sorceror’s Stone was transferred from Gringotts to Hogwarts. Also, Harry Potter’s first excursion back into the Wizarding World ended safely. The success of both events due to the unseen efforts of Kingsley, Moody, and the Forgiven._

_._

_._

Trains whistled in concerto, and the sound of people shuffling through their lives left not even the briefest moment of silence.

Many students and their parents pushed trolleys up and down the platforms. Good byes exchanged as children readied to leave for their respective schools, and through a certain, unassuming looking pillar, young witches and wizards gathered to board the Hogwarts Express.

While the hustle and bustle of passengers took place throughout King’s Cross, hidden by the noise was a certain witch and wizard.

Grimm twisted the grown man’s arm at a painful angle. With her other hand, she jabbed her wand into his spine. Quietly, but deliberately, she pushed him behind a wall, out of sight and out of mind of any passerby. The leader of the Forgiven considered using Legilimens, but the method would take an uncertain amount of time. Time she wasn’t sure she could afford.

If she was going to get the information she required as quickly as possible, drastic measures needed to be taken. Grimm sighed and braced herself for what would come after.

_It’s going to be rough on Norse and Liar tonight. Have to treat them to something later._

After the thought, Grimm focused all her concentration on her spell work. Still holding the man in a vice grip, she pushed him down onto his knees. She leaned in to his ear, and with a deep, icy whisper, she spoke to him.

“You’re going to tell me where the others are.”

Without waiting for a response, Grimm pointed her wand at the bone of the back of her victim’s neck. Her emotions condensed around concepts of pain and suffering. She could feel her blood run toxic and black as tar. The venom flowed into her wand, and like a fang sinking into skin, Grimm jabbed her wand into the wizard’s neck bone.

_“Crucio.”_

Veins under the man’s skin colored black and drew webs all across his body. His muscles tensed and his pupils contracted into shivering, black pits. Grimm’s cursed word echoed forever through his ear canal.

_Pain is different for everyone. Sometimes it’s more emotional than physical. Inflicting someone with the **True** Crucio curse is an art. Torture….is an art._

_You find the person’s sufferings, you connect to their pain, understand them—and then you stick them where it hurts._

_….._

Grimm looked coldly on the man’s suffering and gauged the damage done.

And then she pushed harder.

Nails scratching on a chalk board, the deafening beat of his own heart, and the overwhelming static noise of the blood rushing in his veins. He could hear his bones scratching, scraping, cracking. It drove the man insane.

_Ah…I remember reading something like that. How a silent room was made to mute as much sound as possible. Without any relative noise, you pick up on the smallest sounds of your body. Supposedly, fifteen minutes into the quiet room, people started hallucinating and going crazy. I guess this is something like that._

The man’s senses were heightened to an unbearable degree. Ambient sounds filled his thoughts and fueled his growing insanity. It was too much negative stimulation. He wanted to throw up, but his body stopped him from doing so. The wizard felt like he was breathing too slow, fearing he wasn’t getting enough air. In reality, the man was hyperventilating and taking rapid, shallow breaths too short to properly fill his lungs.

He felt himself die with every passing second. All the while, Grimm pushed the torture further and further.

The wizard experienced a gut piercing ringing. He tried to cover his ears with his hands, but couldn’t control them. He thought the inside of his head was bleeding from the noise.

_A True Cruciatus Curse. Practically the opposite of what’s needed for the Patronus Charm. It requires concentrating on all the bad and painful moments of your life._

_Lucky, me! I have those in plenty~_ _♪_

_That darkness fuels the curse. The Patronus is meant to protect, the Cruciatus is meant to harm and maim. Not even kill—just hurt._

Grimm released her Crucio and the wizard fell face first into the hard floor. He trembled, then barfed, then wept. He clutched his knees to his chest and went into the fetal position. There were fewer instances of a pitiful existence than the one the witch saw before her.

But even then, Grimm was without mercy.

She grabbed him by his collar and locked her fierce eyes into his.

“Tell me where the others are,” she commanded.

The wizard’s mind was in tatters. Weakened to the point where there were no traces of defense against mind reading. Grimm’s face contorted with disgust at what her Legilimency revealed.

The man belonged to a ragtag group of amateur extremist wizards. Their coven was made up of a few former Death Eaters and low life thugs. Each of their appearances and locations appeared in Grimm’s mind, clear as day.

Once she absorbed enough information, she pointed her wand at him again. With a faint flash, the full grown adult was transfigured into a brown rabbit. Grimm picked the creature up by the scruff of its neck, and dropped it into a pet cage she conjured.

When she completed her capture, she made contact with the rest of the Forgiven.

 _“You used the Cruciatus Curse, didn’t you?”_ Liar’s voice spoke to her in her head.

_“Yeah. Had to be done to assess the threat.”_

_“Understood. It’s just **really** going to suck later tonight.”_

_“……Sorry, you two.”_

_“At least you have the intel. As expected, the fools pose no serious threat. Seems hardly worth the cost you’ll be paying later.”_

_“Good thing I’m so used to getting the raw end of things. You and Norse stay with the students. I can take these pricks out on my own.”_

**_“You are sure you do not require assistance?”_ **

_“It’s fine, Norse. They’re amateurs bluffing at something bigger than they really are. I’d feel better working free without having to worry if one of these idiots somehow reaches the students.”_

**_“….Understood.”_ **

_“You two know the drill. I doubt it’ll happen, but if any threats present themselves, I don’t care how exposed you are. You turn them to ash.”_

_“Got it, boss.”_

**_“Good hunting, Grimm.”_ **

The blue haired witch cut the Legilimens link to focus solely on neutralizing the dark wizards. Her targets were a bit spread out, but tracking them wouldn’t prove too difficult. Compared to how the Forgiven originally perceived the threat, the mission became much easier upon learning their adversaries were foolish zealots rather than professionals.

Word reached all across London and beyond that Harry Potter was to begin his schooling at Hogwarts. As if that fact didn’t draw enough attention by itself, this year was the highest admittance of Muggleborn and Halfblood students to date. The students were always targeted for violent acts, but this generation of children garnered more of it than usual.

It wasn’t hard to discern the motives behind the perpetrators. Some of the radical Magi believed if they killed Harry Potter, they would somehow prove themselves more powerful than Voldemort. Some wanted to demonstrate their prejudice against Muggles and those with Muggle related heritages. Either way, there would always be dark wizards trying to assert their influence, and there would always be the Forgiven to stop them. At least this stood true for the last several years.

_Honestly, **every** **year** these idiots come out of the woodwork. Is there a dumbass factory just spitting these guys out or what?_

“We will have our revolutio—!!”

“Shut up, you bloody idiot,” Grimm cut the witch short.

By the end of the hour, she had subdued her fifth criminal before transfiguring them into a rabbit. The leader of the Forgiven then tapped the metal box full of captured bunnies with her wand.

_“Somno Canticum.”_

All their beady little eyes closed as they drifted to sleep. Grimm allowed herself a small sigh of relief at the job well done, and then resumed her Legilimency connection.

_“The threats have been neutralized. Still, we don’t know if there are more out there so stay on guard. I’ll patrol the station until the trains are about to leave. Keep me posted.”_

Grimm felt Liar and Norse mentally nod.

**_“No harm will come to the tiny ones.”_ **

_“Compared to our usual missions, I’m glad we’re not threading some kind of impossible needle this time around.”_

_“It’s too early to take things easy.”_

_“I know, boss. On our toes, wands at the ready. Constant Vigil—“_

She cut the connection.

The witch began her patrol around the station. As she did so, she saw a few familiar faces here and there. Grimm smiled at the sight of the Weasley family helping Harry enter Platform 9 ¾ .

Luckily, she had a diversion charm placed on her, or else the Weasleys would have recognized her in an instant. Due to the effects of an enchantment, those around the witch had their attentions diverted away from her face unconsciously, unless there was close, direct contact.

Suddenly, Grimm was assaulted with a familiar scent that sent her mind into a panic. The young woman whipped around to see a pair of Muggle parents with a frizzy haired daughter. Grimm strained her nose, trying to identify the smell she was picking up.

It stung to understand why the scent was so familiar and the reason it carried on those Muggle parents. They were dentists. They smelled like Grimm’s mother did, when she came back home from work.

_Wow…..It’s been so long since I thought about her…._

She looked out to all the mothers saying goodbye to their children.

_I guess I was trying so hard not to, I just—…..*Sigh* Especially **here**._

Her mind drifted to memories long past. Her first and last meetings with her father. The time she broke down after returning from her third year of school. The happy faces of her now gone parents almost brought tears to her eyes.

 ** _“I don’t understand….!”_** said a small voice behind her.

Grimm collected herself and saw the Muggle family standing between platforms nine and ten, looking thoroughly confused. Their daughter switched back and forth from her letter and the two signs.

_Honestly, after all this time and the trouble it causes, Dumbledore never thought to include just **one** line of simple instruction. Maybe something like, “go into the third pillar from the ninth platform”. See? That wasn’t so bloody difficult._

Grimm shook her head and walked up to the frazzled young girl.

“Platform 9 ¾, yeah?”

The little girl blinked furiously. “Yes!! Do you know where it is?!?!”

“Yup. It’s right through there,” Grimm pointed to the pillar. “Best to have a running start.”

The child gave her a skeptical look.

“You think I’m mad, don’t you?”

The girl nodded.

“Yeah, I guess you’d be pretty stupid if you just believed me outright. Just keep watching.”

It wasn’t two seconds later when a wizarding family seemed to vanish into the pillar with ease. The little girl squeaked at the sight.

“See? So you just need to do that. Got it?”

“…”

“Bit afraid for your first time?”

The child nodded.

“Alrighty.”

Grimm came around and held the trolley behind the girl.

“We’ll go together. Mom and Dad need to follow closely and be brave too, okay?” she called to the parents behind her. They answered with disjointed, uncomfortable smiles.

“Here we go!”

Grimm pushed the trolley with all her might, and the little girl hung on and screamed.

_*Whoosh*_

They flew headlong through the portal and came upon the Hogwarts Express on the other side. Grimm smiled down at the child and saw her brimming with excitement. The girl’s parents stumbled shortly after them.

“That was…EXHILIRATING!!” the child awed.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“My name is Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you!” she said, thrusting her hand out.

“Heh!” Grimm smirked as she shook the girl’s hand. “Good to meet you, Granger. My name’s—“ She paused. “—Grimma. Just Grimma.”

“Good to meet you, Ms. Grimma,” Hermione beamed.

The train gave a high pitched whistle and drew everyone’s attention. When Hermione looked back, Grimm had already disappeared.

.

\------------------------

.

Grimm joined Liar and Norse’s side.

“Geez, some of these kids are cute.”

**“Yes. I wish I could just smother one of them.”**

“To be perfectly frank, I can’t stand the little ankle biters,” Liar snorted.

There, on Platform 9 ¾, the Forgiven oversaw the last of the children boarding the Hogwarts Express. Though their official missions were complete, they still had one piece of personal business to attend to.

 ** _“Confundus.”_** Norse incanted.

The target of her spell an elderly woman standing alongside a young boy. Uncertain why his grandmother went lucid all of a sudden, the kid shook her hand.

“Gran?”

“Neville…!!” Liar whispered. “Over here…!”

The boy took notice of the three Forgiven and began fidgeting nervously. His eyes downcast, while he took his small steps towards them. All the while looking like the most fragile child in the world. Four times he bumped and almost fell over as he made his way through the other students.

**“Alas, I fear he will be bullied verily at Hogwarts.”**

“The kid breaks my heart just _looking_ at him,” Liar trying not to laugh.

Grimm delivered a swift elbow to his ribs.

“Can it with the snide comments. We all promised to _try_ to be supportive.”

Neville finally made it through the crowd and stopped in front of the Forgiven. He took several stuttered breaths before mustering the courage to speak.

“I still wish you wouldn’t hex Gran like that.”

“Sorry, Neville. But you know we need to keep this all hush, hush,” Liar apologized.

Neville nodded silently.

The four stared at each other for a long while. No one made a single move for what felt like an eternity, until Norse became fed up with the awkwardness.

The giant witch bent down on her knee to give the boy one of her patented bear hugs. Neville blushed shyly at first, but eventually hugged back. When Norse released him, she patted his head with fond affection. Her straightforward tenderness always set him at ease.

“Yes…I, uh—* _Ahem_ *--I’m not particularly the hugging type,” Liar said with apprehension. “But hey, I stol—“ Grimm elbowed him. “—PURCHASED. I _purchased_ you a present. Yup. Bought it with my own money I must remember to leave at their counter, later today.” The wizard produced a small bonsai tree from his sleeve. ”I have to warn you, it isn’t magic and it takes a significant amount of care to raise one. Supposedly, it grows beautifully and lives for decades under the right gardener.”

Neville took the plant with great care. He looked down at the miniature tree with a worried expression.

“I’m afraid I’ll kill it.”

“Kid. Don’t be such a downer. We’ve seen you tend to your gardens. Additionally, many hours were waste—“ Grimm elbowed him again. “– WELL SPENT, _toiling_ to come up with this gift. The more work and care you give it, the better it will grow. Very important life lesson and companion for you at school.”

“Thank you.” Neville nodded and smiled. “Is it alright if I call it ‘Lynus’?”

Liar’s eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. “C-call it whatever you like. It’s your bloody plant!” he blurted before turning away to hide his face. Grimm and Norse laughed at the wizard’s embarrassment.

And finally it was Grimm’s turn.

Out of the three Forgiven, she was the worst with him. By all accounts, she agreed with how his Grandmother wanted him to be strong like his parents. But unlike Augusta, Grimm saw Neville would never be like Frank or Alice. He didn’t show the potential or the talent to be an Auror. It was cold, hard truth for her.

Grimm saw how miserable the scoldings made Neville. His grandmother was trying her best to raise him to be something greater than he was, but it always seemed to diminish him instead. And every time, it hurt the boy to never meet those expectations.

She didn’t want to treat him the same way, to cause him more grief, but she didn’t know how else _to_ treat him. So she simply held her tongue and acted conservatively. Though, the witch had an inkling the boy knew her true feelings. She probably stared at him the same way Augusta did.

“Well….good luck at school,” Grimm said, struggling to be supportive. “ _Try_ to get into Gryffindor, if you can. But other houses are okay too! Not Slytherin, though. If you get in there, we’ll pretend not to know you. Hehe!” Norse and Liar elbowed her from each side. “Ow!— Just a joke! Um…….that’s it, I suppose! Do your best and try to grow some backbo—Ow!—Meet some friends and have fun...” Grimm suddenly shoved some chocolate into his hands.

Neville made a small nod, while trying to avoid eye contact.

Liar swept in to salvage the situation. “You’ll be fine, Nevy. Remember, if you’re ever in trouble, make a wish on Trevor, give him a kiss…” Neville laughed. “… and the three of us will show up to help. Also, if anyone tries to bully you, just tell us, and Norse will have a word with them.”

Norse grinned and punched her fist into her palm.

“Now, off you go.”

Neville waved goodbye to them, turned, and made his way back to his now coherent grandmother. Once he was out of earshot, Liar and Norse turned to Grimm between them.

“Wow!! That was **_terrible_**! Horrendous! We’ve tortured and maimed people, _beheld_ untold horrors, but THAT.”

“I know!” Grimm said with her face in her hands.

 **“We were aware of your difficulties with the boy, but that far surpassed any expectation,”** Norse rested a hand on her shoulder.

“I know...”

“I thought you were good with kids!”

“I am! At least….the smart or energetic ones…”

**“Ouch.”**

“Well, there’s no denying Neville isn’t that, but still…! _Grimm. Come, on…._ ”

“I know, alright! You should have seen me with this little girl before. But with Neville—he’s just…!” Grimm let out a heavy groan. “I can’t help thinking, ‘suck it up and stop being a wimpy little prat’, every time I see him. It’s so worrying and annoying!” She let out another groan of frustration. “And then there’s the Sorceror’s Stone at Hogwarts so I’m even _more_ worried!”

“Oh yes, I’d almost forgotten,” Liar mused.

“I need a drink when we’re done.”

“Or eight. May I also remind you, you performed the Cruciatus Curse today.”

It took a moment for Grimm to remember.

“……. _Shite._ ”

.

\--------------------------

.

_Later that night…._

After the Forgiven returned to base, Grimm drank heavily before passing out and being carried to her bed. While their leader slept, Norse and Liar sat at each side of her bed, watching over her carefully. Both of them wearing grave looks on their faces.

“I can take the first shift,” Liar offered.

 **“I am never inclined to sleep on nights like these. You should rest,”** Norse responded.

“Nah,” he shook his head. “I’d rather not sleep either.”

**“How bad do you think it will be tonight?”**

“The Cruciatus Curse was performed only once. Even so….”

 **“Grimm’s Crucio is the most potent of the three of us, so it’s backlash will be substantial,”** Norse finished.

Liar sighed as he pulled out a pack of cards. He started dealing them out across Grimm’s sleeping body.

Hours drifted by while Norse and Liar played various card games. Although time lingered on, the two showed no sign of boredom or fatigue. Only playing peacefully and making quiet idle conversation.

-

The first sign was a small twitch in Grimm’s right hand. Then her brow wrinkled and her breath went ragged. Shortly after, the sleeping witch grit her teeth so hard they threatened to grind to dust. Even if they were ready for it, Norse and Liar couldn’t react by the time she started convulsing.

Norse held Grimm down, while Liar shoved a rolled piece of cloth between her teeth to keep her from biting off her own tongue. Their leader’s limbs sprang out as if she were being possessed. Her arms lashed out at unseen phantoms. Liar caught a punch to the gut and Norse’s face was scratched.

They did their best to hold Grimm down without harming her. Even then, their leader’s nails peeled off as they sunk deep into their skin causing severe abrasions.

It was the price of using the True Cruciatus Curse. The first time they all performed it, they almost killed themselves the following night. Liar and Norse woke up to bodies full of self-inflicted injuries, torn up clothes and bedsheets, blood painting their bedroom….

And an unconscious Grimm bleeding out from a deep gash in her wrist.

Since then, they agreed never to perform Crucio unless absolutely necessary, and never all three of them in the same day. There had to be at least one, who could watch over the other two and prevent lethal injury.

A person suffering the backlash experienced feverish nightmares. Memories and made up futures that caused them pain unimaginable. Every horrible demon come to life.

Drinking helped distort the night terrors, but not by much.

-

When Grimm awoke the next morning, she found Liar and Norse holding each of her hands, sleeping soundly. They were covered in scratches and bruises.

The witch looked down at her own body and found she was perfectly fine. Residual aches told her what parts her comrades healed before passing out. She grabbed her wand off a nearby table.

“Geez. At least heal yourselves before healing me,” Grimm muttered sadly.

She began mending Liar and Norse’s wounds, while caressing their sleeping faces.

…

_“….I’m sorry.”_

 

 


	22. The Betwixting Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is after the Sorcerer's Stone and by extension, the famed Life Alchemist: Nicholas Flamel. To keep the Alchemist safe and out of enemy hands, the Forgiven must capture him first.

 

** Chapter 22 – The Betwixting Forest **

.

_Previously on The Forgiven: Grimm, Liar, and Norse successfully broke into Gringotts and assisted in the Stone’s move to Hogwarts. While the artifact will be under the protection of Dumbledore there, another liability exists. The Life Alchemist: Nicholas Flamel remains out of safety’s reach, vulnerable to the hands of the enemy._

.

.

It was peaceful…

Tranquil….

…

Grimm closed her eyes and felt the gentle breeze brush against her face. The leaves above rustled softly with a gentle sound that brought peace to any mind.

The witch opened her eyes and saw vibrant layers of green vegetation all around her. It was the afternoon, but the trees around her had grown so tall and wildly that they provided shade everywhere. The coolness on a hot day brought further comfort to the forests’ visitors.

Grimm couldn’t detect the presence of any animals or even insects. It was as if the surrounding flora and her companion were the only things alive in this world. The pain in her heart and the stiffness in her nerves seemed to melt away into the soft dirt beneath her feet.

With a sincere smile Grimm followed in the footsteps of the young woman in front of her.

Tonks spun towards her in a summer white dress. The skirt fluttered in the small breeze, color contrasting beautifully against the vivid, dark green surroundings.

Grimm gave a quiet laugh.

_“Grimma.”_

Tonks spoke her name. Voice playful and sweet.

_“Grimma…..”_

“Hm?”

….

_“Grimm, wake up.”_

-

The witch felt someone’s hands shaking her shoulders.

Instinct kicked in and she moved with a speed not seen with the naked eye. With her left hand, she reached under her pillow for her wand. With her right, she grabbed the one waking her by their collar. In a fraction of a second, she was holding her wand at the person’s throat.

“You need to find a better way to wake me up. I was having a good dream, for once.”

“That _is_ rare. I will make sure to commit that to memory, as I prefer to remain breathing through my mouth rather than my throat,” Liar said with a sympathetic smile. “Unfortunately, we have an emergency meeting.”

Grimm let Liar go and began getting dressed.

“Emergency meeting, huh? Is it Flamel?”

“Mad Eye’s found him.”

“Norse still out?”

“She’s making her way back. Moody’s right pissed she wasn’t here on standby.”

“Guess he would be.” Grimm finished changing. “But this couldn’t wait until morning?”

“Why rely on Auror and Law Enforcement working hours, when you can sortie 24/7 available shadow agents? The price of being reliable operatives,” Liar shrugged. “Also, he said we needed to hit the ground hard and running on this one.”

Grimm raised an eyebrow to the statement.

“No time to put together a full plan? The situation’s _that_ bad?”

.

\------------------------------

.

“It’s _that_ bad…!” Moody snarled.

Before him, Grimm, Liar, and Norse were packing their equipment in record time. While they did so, the Forgiver filled them in on the key details.

“Time is of the essence. Nicholas Flamel’s location’s been leaked for half a day now. Whoever’s after the Stone most likely has a head start on you, as well as any other blundering idiot who wants eternal life.”

“How the hell did that happen?” Grimm asked.

“Of all people, it was Mundungus Fletcher who found Flamel’s whereabouts.”

“Mundungus?! Shite. If that’s how it is, we can assume every thug and desperate bloke for coin in Knockturn Alley knows!” Liar exclaimed.

“Word is a few of the mercenary guilds are already organized and making their moves.”

Grimm patiently took a long sip of her black coffee.

“Who are we up against?”

“A lot of amateurs will be in the mix, to be sure. But the notable ones are: Shadow Cape, Spriggan, and Troll Garden.”

“’Troll Garden’. They’ve been making some waves lately.”

“So the _three_ of us against an armada of dark guilders.” Liar exhaled a puff from his cigarette and spiked it on the floor. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be a very Forgiven operation, if there weren’t some gambling odds.”

“They have the superior numbers, but the disadvantage won’t play too hard in this case. According to the intel, Nicholas Flamel’s been hiding out in the Betwixting Forest.”

The three stopped what they were doing at the same time and stared at Mad Eye upon hearing the location. He wasn’t surprised this was how they were reacting.

The Betwixsting Forest was a famous place with a reputation fitting of its name. There, any magic casted went absolutely haywire. Something about the odd intersections of the earth’s leylines caused spells to malfunction. If someone attempted to incant something, half the time, the magic would backfire; and the other times, the effect would be astronomically less or astronomically more than the desired effect.

Because of the area’s unique effect, the forest gained some rather unique inhabitants over the years. Creatures that were extinct everywhere else, existed there to escape being hunted by Magi. It was rumored a large number of vagrants, criminals avoiding the law, Squibs, and other manner of peoples fled to the location to deter any magic people from following them.

“Explains why we never found Flamel till now, and how Mundungus found him before any of us. I know he’s an old Order of the Phoenix man, but you should consider doing something about the prick.”

“Duly noted and added to our to do list, once this mess is settled. As I was saying, you three hold a distinct advantage over your competition. You’ve all trained yourselves physically, while the enemy’s probably soft and crippled without their magic. Also, you’re Animagus. Your animal forms still work, and will let you maneuver the Forest quicker. And then there’s your Origin Magic,” Mad Eye lectured.

Grimm, Norse, and Liar, touched a certain tattoo they all had branded over their hearts.

“Your Origin Magic won’t be affected by the Forest, but remember, they only work _once_ —so choose the moment carefully.”

The three Forgiven nodded.

“ _Originally,_ the Forgivers were to help you on this. But Dumbledore’s guarding the Stone at Hogwarts, Kingsley’s working to contain the information leak, and I’d do more harm than good if I went with you. Eye won’t work, and forests aren’t exactly peg leg friendly.”

After spending so much time with him, they could all sense whenever Moody felt frustrated or guilty. The veteran Auror would gladly be at the front of every battle, or the first into the fray, if he could. It inspired something in them, whether Moody knew it or not.

“Leave it to us, Mad Eye. We’ll see this done,” Grimm answered.

“Atta girl.”

The old Auror looked at them all with a determined stare, as if instilling the three with his energy and vigilance. He finished giving them the rest of the key information. And right when he was about to leave, he approached Norse.

The large witch was looking down. A bruise on her cheek was beginning to swell from where Moody hit her earlier for not being at the base.

“Sometimes…I…”

**“…”**

“I forget how much I ask from you— _from all of you_.”

**“Mad Eye, I—“**

He held up his hand.

“I overreacted and that’s my foolishness.” Moody held Norse’s face and healed the bruise. “I know things have been getting a little hairy lately, and they’re only going to get worse.” He looked at them all. “When we recruited you, we didn’t expect you to become…this.” He paused trying to find the right words. “We asked you to give us everything—unfair as it was—and you have. In fact, you’ve always delivered more than what was promised.”

Moody sighed and stepped back to address them all.

“I’m proud of you three. And….the world might find you one day, and they won’t like the things you’ve done, or understand the reason for what you had to do—the sacrifices you’ve had to make.

….But fuck ’em.”

The sentiment brought a bright smile to the three Forgiven.

“You’re the best I’ve had the experience of coming across, whatever anyone might believe. I’m not one for compliments. Get back safe, you bloody idiots. I haven’t taught you everything you have to learn yet.”

He turned and began limping away.

“I love you too, Mad Eye!” Liar called back to him, but Moody ignored it.

As the Forgiven were left to themselves, they made small talk as per their usual routine. Idle, dumb, chatter always seemed to work wonders on their nerves when preparing for a particularly daunting mission. Bad jokes and unhealthy amounts of caffeine were practically victory rituals for them.

“You know what I think we need?” Liar made a sudden question. “I mean, for our base of operations.”

**“…..A House-Elf?”**

“Oh! That too. But you know what _else_?”

“More video games?”

“No! Bah! You two are terrible at this!”

Grimm was already rolling her eyes.

“Okay, Liar,” she groaned. “What do you think we need?”

 “An _animal companion_. Not an annoying one, though, like a dog or anything, but something tamer.”

**“I would prefer a dog. They are loyal, and make wonderful assets in combat.”**

“I’d feel sorry for whatever animal we took in. They’re really sensitive to their surroundings, and…” Grimm glanced at Liar and Norse. “…we’re not exactly the most warm and nurturing type of people. Plus, they’d be stuck underground all the time.”

 **“We could hide them at one of our safe flats,”** Norse suggested.

“That _is_ a viable option,” Liar agreed.

“The ones we rarely visit and should only be used in case of emergencies? Even if we tried to go there on a regular basis, the Forgivers would notice. We’re supposed to keep those safe houses secret, even from them, remember?”

Liar kicked the ground and Norse pouted her lips.

“You guys _really_ want a pet, don’t you?”

Norse and Liar bobbed their heads.

 _*Sigh_ * “Let’s table it first and see if we can’t figure something out later. The way Moody is, maybe we can guilt trip into the idea.”

The large witch broke a wide grin in agreement. Grimm gave her a small shove and they began elbowing each other playfully. Their small bout of intimacy was interrupted by the sound of a knife stabbing into wood behind them.

The two witches walked over, curious to what Liar was doing.

“Are you…carving your name on your wand?” Grimm asked with an offset brow.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“What are you, a child?”

“Hey! It’s cool, okay? Aaaaand–” Liar threw Norse an accusing glare. “Both of you repeatedly obliterate your wands! Wouldn’t want _one_ of you picking up mine by mistake. Isn’t that right, NORSE?”

**“For the last time, it was broken when I found it!”**

“ _A likely story_ ,” Liar harrumphed with an upturned nose.

In return, Norse turned in the opposite direction and crossed her arms. Even if Liar didn’t believe her, Grimm did. She knew Norse was telling the truth.

She knew this because _she_ was the one, who broke Liar’s wand and planted it near her.

“I see,” Grimm said, trying to stifle a laugh. “Well, then. You better make sure you spell your name correctly.”

Liar lifted his right hand up to make a rude gesture. Grimm only broke into large, unrestrained laughter.

“That’s NOT your middle finger anymore, HAHAHA!”

The young man was confused at first, but then realized the hand he used for the gesture, was the one missing its pinky.

“AAAGGHHH!!!”

.

\------------------------------------------------

.

The Forgiven had never Apparated like this before.

As Liar carried them through the space between the underground base and the Betwixting Forest, the party encountered a large amount of “turbulence”. The three felt their bodies stretch left and right, threatening to reappear in a different location from their destination. Strong gravitational forces tried to tear the Forgiven from each other, and it took all of Liar’s efforts to keep them together.

“Liar! What’s happening?!” Grimm wailed.

“The Forest is interfering with the Apparation!”

“I thought you were moving us far enough out of the field!”

“ _Apparently_ , the idiotic magic zone fluctuates! Just bear with it! We’re almost there.”

And suddenly, as if answering their words, the three were shot out of thin air. Though, they left the space between Apparations, the Forgiven’s bodies were still being thrown about like little toys. Sharp winds whipped at their limbs and rain drops pelted their faces.

Grimm, Norse, and Liar, had teleported above the Forest, in the middle of a storm.

A dense gale hit them like an invisible wall, and separated them. Three bodies went flying in different directions, flipping haphazardly through their descent. It was complete and utter chaos.

Though, despite the swirling madness, it actually felt kind of easing for Grimm. To just be blown around with no sense of control. To simply give herself to whatever would happen.

_I think….It would be fine…._

_…_

_I think it would be fine, if I just died like this…._

The intrusive thought arose in her head and seemed to deafen the howling winds around her.

But the thought lasted only for a second.

Grimm looked to Liar and Norse falling ahead of her. The two were coordinating where they would fall, and Grimm followed suit.

After much effort, they were able to gain some control and position themselves for their landing. Crossing their arms and closing their legs, Liar and Grimm made themselves as streamlined as possible. Norse, on the other hand, opted to transform into her Penguin form, and dove nose first. The three saw the watery surface approaching quickly, and simultaneously held their breaths.

_*SPLOOSH*_

The Forgiven submerged to a deep into the body of water before buoyancy outmuscled gravity. They swam to the surface and was again met with the chaos of the storm. Maneuvering themselves on the lake’s waves, they were able to swim to nearest beach.

_*Cough! Cough!*_

Grimm and Liar hunched over in the sand, both hacking out the water in their lungs. Norse shifted back to her human form and began patting their backs. Once the last bit of water was out of their systems, they all lied down on the beach, arms spread out in fatigue.

The monsoon seemed to rain harder on the three with every passing second. Even so, the Forgiven needed to take a small breather before continuing their mission.

Grimm looked up into the swirling dark grey clouds and pouted.

…

_“This place sucks……”_

 

 


	23. Weirder and Weirder

Chapter 23 – Weirder and Weirder

**.**

_Previously on The Forgiven: To keep the Elixir of Life out of the reaches of hands less moral, the Forgiven must abduct Nicholas Flamel before anyone else can get to him. The alchemist’s location is revealed to be in the Betwixting Forest, where magic runs haywire._

_._

_._

Five hours have passed since the Forgiven first set foot into the Betwixting Forest.

As the sun rose, and the black skies transitioned to hues of purple and orange, the three looked up after hearing a peculiar sound.

It was like a moaning echo from something otherworldly. The voice was so hollow and pure, it felt awe inducing. A great shadow seemed to engulf the world and the Forgiven looked up to see the owner of the distant song.

It was a giant whale swimming through the air, as if the skies were an ocean all to itself. The colossal creature glided smoothly over the forest, slow but deliberate movements sent winds bending trees below it. Its voice transcended for miles out and shook the insides of the lands’ dwellers nearby.

Grimm, Liar, and Norse weren’t sure how long they were standing there, but before they knew it, the whale was vanishing into the distance. A sense of forlorning accompanied the great creature’s departure. They had never seen something quite so _majestic_ before.

In their lives, which were usually caked in dirt and blood, it was so easy for them to forget the existence of true beauty in the world.

They all breathed a collective sigh.

“The Betwixting Forest….Place really does mess with your sense of reality, doesn’t it?” Liar muttered absentmindedly.

**“”Yeah….””**

“And was there not just a storm a few moments ago? I swear, this place just does whatever it pleases.”

 **“One could lose their minds staying here too long.”** Norse had to sign to them without magic.

“You can say that again, but I’m not complaining. We’ve got daylight and clear weather now. Might as well make the most of it,” said Grimm.

**“Where do we begin?”**

Grimm shrunk down to her fox form and began attuning her animal senses to the environment. With the storm passed and morning dawning, the forest’s inhabitants were coming out of their hiding holes. Streams of information passed through her ears and nose, giving her potential locations to investigate. Dumbledore had provided a piece of cloth belonging to Nicholas Flamel, which she used to trace his scent through. After gathering enough intel, she went back to her human form.

All three pulled out vague maps of the Betwixsting Forest and laid it all on a fallen tree trunk. Grimm started to mark several spots in red marker.

“For the sake of efficiency, we’ll be splitting up to follow different leads. It was really hard to pick up, but I got a whiff of someone, who _might_ be Nicholas Flamel in the direction of this river.” She drew a line tracing the river on the map. “Norse, I guess I’ll leave that to you since you can just go penguin and swim there. This forest seems to have a lot of bodies of water, so exploit that.”

Norse morphed into her animal form and saluted with her wing. Grimm nodded and continued.

“I heard a large amount of clumsy movement in _this_ direction here.” She pointed on the map. “I’m guessing our competition is field-raking this whole area to find our alchemist.” She circled a large portion. “Since we don’t know if it’s random search, or if they have intel he’s around that area, it’s better to err on the side of caution. That’s why I’ll be in charge of that area. If he’s there, I’ll find him. Plus, I’ll impede the enemy’s progress and maybe get some info out of them.”

 **“”No Crucio.””** Norse and Liar communicated.

“I know that! No risking magic in this place. Guess I’ll have to use more _primitive_ means of interrogation…” Grimm muttered as she traced the edge of an army dagger. “They can be a bit unreliable though.”

“And shall my assignment be?”

“There’s a settlement here.” Grimm indicated on the map. “Liar, I want you to talk to the locals and see what you can gather. I wouldn’t be surprised if they know _exactly_ where Flamel is, seeing as they live here.”

“Got it.”

“And be careful. Things get dicey, you book it. Doubt anyone could outrun you, but they know the forest. No risks, you ditch the equipment and morph into your lizard form. Don’t be conservative about using your Origin Magic either.”

“Alright, alright. Be careful, I got it. What’s brought on this overprotective treatment?”

Grimm went silent for a moment.

“You’re taking it a bit easy now, right?” she asked with an understanding smile.

“…..Oh.” Liar scratched his nose embarrassingly. “Suppose I am.”

“Good. I’m really glad you decided to.”

 _*Sigh*_ “Both of you are offputtingly considerate at the oddest times.”

Norse pet Liar’s head, while Grimm tapped his shin.

After they went over the finer points of the mission, the three readied themselves to separate. Grimm was pulling various knifes from her satchel. Liar was unwrapping a radio from its waterproof container and testing it.

“Alas, I must confess, I never would’ve thought Moody’s Muggle training would come in handy until this very moment.”

“No guns, though…” Grimm frowned. “Not like we were trained in that.”

**“Peh! Those crude and cowardly devices we do better without.”**

“Hopefully, it’s thanks to that same Magi pride the other side wasn’t smart enough to bring any either. Well—“ Grimm played with the blade in her hands. “—knives are a lot better, anyway.”

Liar and Norse gave a small gulp when they saw their leader’s fascination.

“Keep your weapons at the ready. Remember, it’s not just the people who are a threat, but the magic creatures, who thrive here.”

“And no spells to speak of. Perhaps we can recruit one as a pet, so they may act as our guardian.”

**“I wholeheartedly agree.”**

“Again, with the pets,” Grimm sighed. “How are the radios?”

“It appears the reception isn’t very clear. Whatever’s interfering with the magic is doing the same with radio waves, it seems. But…”

Liar pressed a button on the device to make clear beeping noises.

“I see. So we use Morse Code then. It’s not Legilimency, but it’s better than no communication at all.”

 **“Do you not mean, ‘NORSE’ code?”** Norse silently laughed and held her hands up for high fives. The other two gave her judging stares before reluctantly obliging.

.

 

\------------------------

.

Before entering the settlement, Liar made sure to put his lizard mask on and his hood up. Considering how most of the people here wanted to remain anonymous, the wizard figured he wouldn’t seem too suspect. For additional good measure, he added a bit more dirt and tear to his cloak to look more acclimated to the wilderness.

Right as he was reaching the outskirts of the encampment, he felt something surge from his stomach. Liar immediately collapsed to his knees and threw off his mask. Bile stomach acid spewed forth from his mouth and spilled into the dirt. The young man hacked and coughed. Only five seconds passed after the first heave before the second wave hit.

When he finally stopped, Liar looked down at the regurgitated contents.

Mixed in with food from earlier’s breakfast was a decent amount of blood. The wizard grimaced as he stood up in frustration. Out of his satchel he withdrew two small vials and emptied the contents into his mouth. Angry with himself, he smashed the containers into a nearby tree.

_I didn’t even do anything this time!!_

_It’s getting worse…!_

Liar wiped his mouth and rebalanced himself. Though, his breath was still short, the wizard was determined to soldier on. One shaky step past the other, he made his way into the camp.

The young man was surprised at how civilized the settlement was.

Rows of large tents lined the open grass field. Each had its own resident of at least three people. Many of them were open and selling foods, Muggle objects, medicine, and other miscellaneous items. It was practically a tiny village.

Liar went from stall to stall trying to collect as much info as possible. From what he gathered, this particular community relied on each other than work independently. They had members dedicated to hunting, to gathering herbs, even potion making. It was in the last bit Liar was interested in.

The wizard started skimming the wares of potion sellers. Most of them were a poor brew, but considering where they were, it wasn’t a surprise. What Liar was really looking for was—

He quickly snatched one of the vials and held it to the sun. The quality of the potion was a significant cut above the rest. Its liquid content was smooth, red, and translucent; little to no impurities were present. Being a chemist in his own right, Liar could tell this one was mixed by a true master of the craft.

“Who is the potion master who brewed this?” he asked the seller.

“Oh! Good eye fer quality, don’t ya? Fella calls himself ‘Confucius’. Not his real name o’ course.”

“Do you know where I can find him?”

“Hmmmm…..Depends….” The seller stroked his beard suggestively.

Liar smiled, and took out a sack of Galleons. The gold reflected bright in the salesman’s eyes, but the man never so much as blinked. Only a disappointed frown arose on his face.

“Tha’ money’s no good here! Whatta ya have to _trade_ , man? Tha’s how things work in ‘dese parts!”

“Oh…..right, you are.” Liar began sifting through his supplies. Most of the equipment in his possession _was_ Muggle equipment, but he only wanted to trade them as a last resort. After rustling through what he could and could not part with, the wizard found a familiar looking carton.

Liar frowned and unwrapped the cigarette pack from its waterproof container.

_Trade as old as time…._

The seller’s eyes turned into large pools of desire upon seeing it.

_Not a good poker face you have there, old man._

“I’ll tell ya what ya want ta know, but fer the pack firs’.”

“That’s a poor deal, friend. I would have the info first—” Liar pulled out one of the cigarettes and lit it. “—and then you would have _half_ the pack.” The wizard blew a dense wisp of tobacco near the seller, enticing him with the smell.

“Hmph….”

The salesman deliberated for a moment, before giving Liar the location. While he did so, the young wizard read the man’s tells carefully; analyzing every minute movement of his face, and the subtle inflections in his tone. Those who practiced the art of lying were in turn, able to find it in others.

“No play, old man. I know a thing or two about telling lies. Try again, please. The _real_ info this time, or I walk away,” Liar smirked.

“Bah! You accusin’ me ah lyin’! Yer an outsider stealin’ me info fer free!!” he yelled for everyone nearby to hear.

“Hahaha! I get it, I get it.”

Liar gave a small wave, as he made his way from the camp, and to the treeline. There, he waited, barely visible to anyone who wasn’t paying attention. After a few minutes, the seller came out and approached him.

As an act of sincerity, Liar lit a cigarette and offered it to the old man. The seller took it with a big toothy grin, as Liar lit another one for himself. The two enjoyed their smoke for a moment, before getting down to business.

“Fire Drakes….’Ya have ta go _real_ far fer one o’ these.”

“And no Apparation around here. I’m sure it’s a long walk.”

“Aye.” He took a long drag, burning out half the cigarette in one go. “Dun tell anyone abou’ this, alrigh’?”

“Not a word.”

“Community’s s’posed ta look out fer each other. Confucius ain’t innit, but still, dun want no one ta doubt me.”

“My lips are sealed.”

The old salesman nodded and Liar gave him another cigarette.

After getting the information from the seller, Liar tossed him the whole pack. As soon as he was out of sight and sound from the encampment, the wizard radioed Norse and Grimm to relay the intel he gathered.

.

\--------------------

.

The witch tasted iron in her mouth. Blood dripped from the edges of her furry lips and the dagger she held between her teeth. Around her were five bodies, all of them dead from knife wounds in the neck. The fox pricked up her ears to home in on her next cluster of targets.

Grimm detected another group of five witches and wizards, and swiftly dashed in their direction. Her prey bumbled through the forest in clumsy fashion. It was easy practice to take them down.

The fox stalked them from through the dense bushes, and climbed into the trees. One by one, she lightly pounced on their shoulders, and before they could respond to what was happening, she sunk her knife into the side of their neck. By the time the others noticed, Grimm was already nowhere to be seen.

The fox killed the dark Magi, leaving only one alive. For the last mercenary, she darted quickly behind her legs, and severed the veins in her knees. The witch screamed as she fell. Two puddles of blood pooled underneath her.

Grimm morphed into her human form and walked towards the older woman writhing on the ground. As if the situation wasn’t terrifying enough for the mercenary, the Forgiven leader’s mouth was covered in blood, giving her the image of a cannibal.

With no reluctance whatsoever, Grimm stepped on one of the older witch’s bleeding legs.

“GAAHHHH!!!”

The woman tried to remove the foot from her knee, but when she did so, Grimm peeled back one of her arms and stabbed it into the ground with a dagger.

“ **GAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!”**

Tears flooded from the mercenary’s eyes as she screamed and sobbed in pain. To shut her up, Grimm covered her mouth with a strong grip. The witch tried to look away, but Grimm kept her face forward so their eyes were dead locked.

“Who are you with?” the Forgiven asked, lifting her hand a bit so the other could speak.

“…! Spri…ggan…!” she stuttered.

“Hm. That makes you my competition. I’m from Troll Garden, see?” Grimm lied.

“What?! You’re betraying us?!”

“……Betraying you?”

“You bastards were the one who set up this damn alliance!!”

“I thought something was up. So the big mercenary guilds are working together. Makes sense—the forest is hard enough to cover without having to fight each other. How civil of you lot….”

Grimm pulled a second knife from her cloak and stabbed it into the woman’s jugular.

“An alliance….and it was set up by Troll Garden? How the hell’d they manage that?” A dark inkling suspicion began to grow. “There’s something to it, I’ve got a real bad feeling about this one…..

…

…

Could the _one_ after the Sorcerer’s Stone be related to Troll Garden?”

As Grimm pondered her hypothesis further, her radio crackled to life. A string of high pitched blips followed.

.

\---------------

.

Norse swam through the rapid river currents with ease, when she heard her radio sound off.

The bird hopped nimbly to the nearest river bed and listened intently to Liar’s transmission. From the message, Nicholas Flamel’s location was close to the area she was searching. Along with the whereabouts, was the description of the Alchemist’s home and appearance.

…

Not sure if she heard the Morse Code correctly, Norse tapped together a response. A message came soon after.

“You heard right. The target’s house is a—“

_*SPLASH*_

Norse looked up and saw her second strangest sight today.

Crashing through the water was an enormous Hermit Crab with a great black shell on its back, as large as a small house. With its spider-like limbs, the crustacean skittered down the river. The building on its back lurched to and fro, but surprisingly stable.

 ** _Weirder and weirder,_ ** Norse thought.

She tapped a message to the other two.

**_“I’ve found him.”_ **

 

 

 

 

 


	24. The Giant Crab In The Room

 

** Chapter 24 – The Giant Crab In The Room **

.

_Previously on The Forgiven: Grimm, Liar, and Norse find the home of the famous Life Alchemist: Nicholas Flamel, in the form of a Giant Hermit Crab._

_._

.

“……..What am I looking at?”

“That….would be a giant Hermit Crab, boss.”

“Alright. Just making sure I wasn’t seeing things.”

Shortly after joining up with Norse, the three Forgiven stared blankly at the humongous moving red crustacean pedaling itself down the river. Perched on its back was a black, one story high, stone house in place of its shell.

“That’s a very unique house, and a _very_ unique horse to go along with it. See, this is why I stress the importance of having an animal companion.”

“Again with the pet thing,” Grimm groaned. “But the more I look at it, the more I’m not too sure it’s a pet.”

One of Liar’s brows perked up.

“Wait! Are you suggesting—!“

**“He is also an unregistered Animagus?”**

“It’s got a beard. Crab’s normally don’t have beards.”

They all squinted their eyes and saw that the Hermit Crab indeed possessed a long white beard that trailed in the water below it. As if sensing the presence of the Forgiven, the crustacean made a quick about face.

When it turned around, it saw only a lizard, a fox, and a penguin, gazing at it. The crab had seen stranger things in the forest, so it paid no mind to the three odd creatures.

As their target continued moving down the river, the Forgiven followed in human form.

“Alright, boss. So how shall we handle this? We were _‘supposedly’_ to bludgeon him out of consciousness and abduct the sod, but I do believe that option is no longer viable.”

“We can’t revert him back to his human form with force and we can’t use magic....This forest is pissing me off more by the second.”

**“And it would be a difficult feat to subdue and kidnap such a large body.”**

Liar shrugged.

“I suppose we’ll have to do what we’re oh, _sooooooo_ talented in— _Diplomacy_.” he said with disgust.

The edges of Norse’s lips drooped, as she also dreaded the idea.

 _“Or we could kill him,”_ Grimm answered offhandedly.

Norse and Liar stiffened looked to their leader, who was holding her chin, massaging it in thought.

“It’s not like the problem goes away by kidnapping him and moving him somewhere else, right? That’s a temporary solution. And a stupid one at that.”

She paused to hear her comrades’ thoughts.

“…..How long have you been thinking on this?” Liar asked warily.

“Ever since Albus gave us the mission.”

“ _Of course,_ you have.”

“You two do see my point, don’t you?”

**“Of course, we do.”**

Being with Grimm so long, it wasn’t difficult to decipher her reasoning. The witch was never fond of half-baked measures. As long as Nicholas Flamel lived, there would always exist those after the formula to eternal life. And then what was to happen when the Forgiven no longer existed or when Dumbledore was gone? There was no guarantee the Alchemist would remain safe forever.

“It’s easier to kill him than abduct or persuade him.”

“He’s a sodding giant crab! He’s got thick shelling and—“

“See his eyes, how they stick out? Cutting them with my dagger would be a simple. We take out his eyes, then we invade his shell, and take him out from the inside.”

“You’re answering this all rather readily.”

“And if anything, we have mine and Norse’s Origin Magic to rely on.”

“Huh…This is true. But do the positives of such a course of action outweigh the negatives?”

“What ‘negatives’? We kill him, mission complete. We destroy the Stone at Hogwarts and no one can ever make the Elixir of Life again. Albus doesn’t know the complete formula.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! ‘Destroy the Stone at Hogwarts’? When did we decide this?”

Grimm rolled her eyes.

“After this mission, I’ll bet you anything, Albus is going to have us guard the Stone at Hogwarts. When he does, we bypass the defenses, and destroy the damned thing once and for all. One less way Voldemort can resurrect.”

“Wait! I believe we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves here. We should discuss the Stone at a different time.”

“If you say so, but that _is_ the course we’re taking.”

**“The consequences from the Forgivers will be dire.”**

“Fock the consequences! The only actual consequences are we hurt Albus’s stupid pride, and do what he couldn’t bring _himself_ to do! Kingsley will be disappointed, sure, but he’ll understand. And Moody will give two shits about what it took to gain such a result. No more Nicholas Flamel, no more Stone, no more Elixir of Life, now and in the future. It’s pluses across the board!”

Norse and Liar stared at Grimm with a conflicted gaze.

“…..I don’t like where this is heading, boss.”

**“Flamel is an innocent life.”**

“That idiot crab’s lived his life a hundred times over. He should have died _ages ago_. Are you lot _really_ conflicted over ending his life? Are you kidding me?!”

“Grimm!”

“What?!” she shrieked, out of breath.

“Calm down, boss. This isn’t like you……You are our leader, but you’ve always asked our counsel before acting, have you not?”

Grimm took a deep breath, and then exhaled.

“Sorry. You’re right.” She held her head, feeling a little dizzy. “We can talk about the rest later. But right now, can you give me actual, substantial reason why we shouldn’t just kill him now?”

Seeing their leader regain her composure a bit, Liar and Norse relaxed.

“No, I suppose not, as a matter of fact. Eliminating him seems like the most prudent measure. Norse?”

She faced them both with a guilty expression.

**“It is my wish we speak to the Alchemist than kill him.”**

“That’s….surprising….” Liar muttered.

“What?! Why?! Tell me this isn’t about getting into trouble with the Forgivers—”

 **“It is not!”** Norse fidgeted nervously and signed the next part with care. **“I want to ask the Alchemist’s help…..for Liar’s sake.”**

…

The three went quiet for a solid minute. It was clear a heavy shadow hung over them all with Norse’s last words.

“Alright. We talk to him,” Grimm finally spoke.

This time, it was Liar, who was furious.

“ABSOLUTELY ** _,_** _NOT_!! You know, I will never consent to—“

“LIAR! I’m _not_ talking about the Elixir of Life.” Grimm answered with a calm tone. “Nicholas Flamel is a brilliant Alchemist. It’s not like the Sorcerer’s Stone is the _only_ thing he knows how to make. You understand?”

**“But…!”**

“Norse. We’ve talked about this. We’re not using the Stone or the Elixir. BUT—” She turned to Liar. “—he might know another way.”

The wizard was still struggling with his temper, but managed to keep it under control.

“Alright,” he replied reluctantly. “But if he refuses to talk, we kill him and be done with this business.”

“That’s what I wanted from the start.”

Grimm and Liar looked to Norse for her consent.

…

With a small nod of her head, the large witch agreed to the terms.

.

\-----------------

.

As fast as the crab moved, the Forgiven were able to eventually surround Flamel with their animalistic speed, at a shallow portion of the river.

Before the crustacean, Grimm morphed into her human form.

“Dumbledore sent us. We need to speak with you.”

The Hermit Crab made no immediate response. Assuming he had chosen to listen, one by one, the Forgiven introduced themselves and briefed him on the threats of the pursuing mercenary guilds. When they finished the explanation, the crab scratched its beard with its claw, as it mulled over its decision.

“Very well. I will go with you,” clicked Flamel.

“Um….good? I suppose,” Grimm said, rather dumbstruck.

“Is something the matter?”

“We didn’t expect you to come along so easily.”

“When you get to be my age, you learn to trust your intuition.”

“Is that right….?”

Flamel leaned towards the witch and positioned his protruding eyes in front of her.

“Most certainly.” If the the crab had a face, it would be smiling. “Why don’t you all come aboard? It’s quite homely on the inside.” He gestured to the shell on his back.

The Forgiven were apprehensive at first, but ultimately decided to take him up on his offer.

Nicholas Flamel’s shell as indeed “homely”. The moment the visitors stepped inside, a hearth flickered with warm fire and illuminated the insides. The floor was lined with soft, wooly carpet. Comfortable sofas and lounge chairs had blankets draped over them. And all along the walls were various vials and chemistry apparatuses. There were even a couple of lab benches for potion brewing. The only subject of décor that did not fit the image was the large amount of recreational drugs on some of the shelves.

Liar let out an impressed whistle.

The three Forgiven instantly jumped into their own claimed chairs and melted lazily into the cushions. As they made themselves comfortable, a large ball of orange fur leapt onto Grimm’s stomach.

“You’re a fat ass cat, aren’t you?” she said, while stroking its head. It purred pleasantly in response.

“That would be my cat, **Crookshanks** ,” Flamel’s voice echoed inside.

“He looks….nice…..and old?”

“Yes. Quite.”

Grimm had a strange premonition.

“….How old is this cat?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You lose count after the first hundred years.”

 **“““You gave your cat the Elixir of Life?!”””** Grimm, Liar, and Norse exclaimed.

“You disapprove?”

All three groaned at how outrageous it seemed.

“You _greatly_ disapprove.”

“Understatement, Flamel,” Liar answered. “Although, oddly reasonable, all things considered.”

“Hmmmm…….You are ill.”

The atmosphere in the room cooled to subzero temperatures. Like the house was suddenly emptied of all its air. Crookshanks leapt off Grimm and scampered away.

“Or cursed with something fatal…”Flamel finished.

A look of graveness appeared on all the Forgiven’s expressions.

“…..You can tell?” Liar asked.

“Intuition, my young friend. I have a sense for these things, especially within the space of my own shell.”

Flamel found a good spot on the river bank to settle, stopped, and curled up into his own home. A wall of the house folded in, and the crustacean moved through, clicking around a little before he found a cozy position for his legs. Crookshanks gingerly hopped on the head of his owner upon his arrival.

“Why don’t you take your human form?” asked Grimm.

“Alas, I have lost the ability to do so. I’d taken quite a liking to this body, so much so that one day, I realized I’d stayed in it for three decades! I’d actually _forgotten_ what my original body looked like, or _would_ look like after so much time had passed. So now I am stuck this way. A rather silly tale, I know.”

“Not so much ‘silly’, as ridiculously stupid. I thought you were supposed to be a genius.”

“Hoho, not one to mince words, are you, young lady?”

“How do you do business with your….condition?” Liar looked him up and down. “I talked to the potion seller at the settlement and he spoke of your house. He never mentioned you _were_ your house.”

“Ah, yes. I park myself nearby and have Crookshanks go out to run errands my robust figure cannot manage. I dare say, some of them may mistake _Crookshanks_ for my Animagus form.”

“Still….staying like that?”

“I know how it may _seem_ , but in actuality, I find my present anatomy far more preferable to the former. Being Animagus yourselves, I’m sure you find distinct advantages with your animal counterparts? And any _dis_ advantages it may possess can be adapted to.” With deceptively smooth motions, the crab gracefully began preparing some refreshments with his oversized pincers. “Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee. Black.”

**“Tea.”**

“Ah, excellent! Sign language. I’d learned it in my boredom, but never had much use for it. I apologize that I cannot sign back,” he clicked jovially with his pincers.

“I wouldn’t suppose you have anything I could smoke?” Liar inquired.

“Recreational?”

“Haha….Probably best to stay sober.”

The crab picked a large jar off the shelf full of brown leaves, along with paper and other materials to roll it in. He then placed them all in front of the wizard like a meal served quick from the kitchen.

Liar did a take back to the shelf full of drugs.

“Do you sell those?”

“No. They are my personal medications.”

“Why would you need to take drugs, when you’re already in a weird trippy forest?” Grimm almost laughing.  “Sounds like a bad mix.”

“Yes, well. When one possesses eternal life and is also in command of a brain too smart for its own good, one does feel the need to find methods of…. _coping_ with their existence,” Flamel explained, as he distributed the coffee and tea.

Grimm inhaled the drink’s scent through her nose. The smell immediately set her mind aflare, as she took a full savoring taste of the brew.

“This is really good, Flamel. I think I’m starting to like you,” she said with a cheerful tone.

“I hope it will not make killing me any more difficult.”

….

……

Grimm narrowed her eyes over her coffee cup. “It won’t.”

“Good, I imagined it wouldn’t.”

If the crab had a human face, it would certainly be smiling.

“Now, that we have exchanged pleasantries, I believe we should address the giant crab in the room. Hohoho!”

The three Forgiven and the Alchemist laughed at the terrible joke.

“Yeah, I’m definitely starting to like you,” Grimm said fondly. “And you’re right. So let’s talk.”

“You wanted to consult with me about this young man’s condition.” Flamel’s eyes settled on Liar.

“Yes.”

...

“Hm.” The crab’s mouth clicked absent mindedly, as he touched his claw to Liar’s head and chest. “You’ve suffered a curse. An old one.”

“Years back,” the young man answered. “Scuffle with a rather bad booby trap.”

“Years back, you say?”

Liar gave a serious nod.

“Hmmm…. If you were brought to me earlier, I might’ve concocted something, but as it stands now…” Flamel’s eyes drooped. “I’ve regret to inform you the curse has had years to progress to an irreversible state.”

Grimm and Liar looked away, trying to hide how crestfallen they were. The two were prepared to hear that exact answer. It still hurt, despite it.

On the other hand, Liar’s expression was unchanged and stalwart.

 **“Then the Elixir of Life—!”** Norse started.

“Norse!” Liar cut in. “We made a rule. A promise…..We do _not_ cheat death. People die, when they die.” The young wizard bit the inside of his lip to steel his resolve. “It is the only way we can excuse ourselves for at least _some_ of the things we’ve done. The lives we’ve taken, we treat like our own. That was our agreement.”

“Death comes for us all,” Grimm added without emotion.

**“Fock that! This is different!!”**

“NORSE!!!”

….

 _*Sigh*_ “ _Sister_ ….” Liar said with a soft, almost pleading voice. “Do not tempt me further than I already am.”

From Norse’s eyes, tears fell like rain drops. She buried her head in her fists, nails digging deep into her skin, knuckles white as snow. The witch shook with rage and despair.

As if deciding to put an end to it all, to end the dangling false salvation before them, Grimm strode coldly to Flamel. She pulled a long dagger from her cloak and positioned the blade right beneath his head. The Alchemist stared at her, summoning no resistance whatsoever.

“Young, so young….” he muttered. “But _wise_ ….”

Unlike before, the elder spoke with a voice befitting his great age. It was a tone so distant and far, like coming from a fading dream.

“You three are so much wiser than I. To know the truth of death, and accept it whole, while I fearfully tried to escape it. How unsightly,” he lamented. “Thank you for granting me an end, for I had not the courage to do it myself.”

Grimm tightened her grip on the dagger and started pressing the tip against Flamel’s skin.

….

“Can you slow down the process?” Grimm asked quietly.

“Hm?”

Liar stood up.

“Grimm!”

“ _Can you slow down the spread of the curse? Can you treat it?”_ Grimm asked again.

“GRIMM!!!”

“It’s not cheating death, Liar!” she barked at him. “Tell me, Flamel. Can you treat it?”

The crab scratched his head with his claw for a moment.

“….Yes. A cure is impossible, but a treatment to extend his life is within my ability; though, I cannot promise how long.”

“THAT’S NO DIFFERENT FROM THE ELIXIR!!”

“It would be very different from my Elixir.”

“SHUT UP, FLAMEL! Just because _you_ are afraid to die, does not mean I am!! I will NOT cheat death!!!”

Norse abruptly stood up, crossed the floor, and punched Liar’s jaw loose.

“Hm. Haven’t seen that in a while,” Grimm remarked.

The large witch pinned the wizard below her and grabbed his cloak, her face red as fire. Never did she ever want to speak so badly as she did now. To yell, to scream at Liar from the top of her lungs. Small puffs of air escaped her lips, threatening to make a sound. Her oath, being completely forgotten.

She wanted to tell him he was being stubborn. She wanted to scold him for being so foolish. She wanted to empty out all things that festered in her heart.

_*Pat*_

….

Norse felt Liar’s cold hand cover her mouth, stopping her from speaking.

“Okay…” he said softly. “ _Okay….”_

….

At Liar’s consenting words, Norse backed off from him.

“That was….dramatic,” Flamel said awkwardly.

“We have our ups and downs,” Grimm responded in a carefree manner.

“So I am under the impression you will _not_ be taking my life today?”

“Nope. Sorry, Flamel. The kingdom won’t be coming just yet.”

“A tad disappointing.”

“You’ll get your chance. I promise that.”

Flamel sighed. “I suppose, I am hardly in a position to argue.”

Crookshanks hopped down from his owner’s head and nudged his claw. The crab began petting the pet he almost left behind. Grimm put her dagger away and also began stroking the cat’s fur.

“Cheer up, old man—crab—whatever. You’re going to live more thrills in the next few years than you’ve ever done centuries.”

“Oh? And what makes you so sure of that, young lady?”

“Four special words.”

“Hm?”

Grimm flashed a malicious grin.

…

“ ** _Welcome to the Forgiven.”_**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	25. Mad Dance

 

** Chapter 25 – Mad Dance **

.

_Previously on The Forgiven: Liar is revealed to be inflicted with a fatal curse. In order to treat him, Grimm recruits Nicholas Flamel into the Forgiven._

_._

_._

“Wait! You’re _recruiting_ him?!” Liar exclaimed.

“As an honorary member, yes.”

**“The Forgivers will not approve of this. I assume you have a plan?”**

“Broad strokes.”

“ _That_ doesn’t sound at all vague or ominous.” Liar turned to Flamel. “And you’re alright with this?”

The crab lifted his pincers into the air that gave an “I don’t know” impression. “For once, in a very long time, I’m rather unsure as to what will happen next. How exciting!” he clicked his claws.

Liar palmed his face, and shook his head.

“What’s going to happen _next_ , is we need to get you out of this damned forest, and teleport you to one of our safe houses.” Grimm stepped next to Liar and put a hand on his shoulder. “Look on the bright side. You got the pet you always wanted.” She gestured to the enormous Red Hermit Crab.

“Oh, yes. He’s adorable. I love him….” Liar said without emotion.

On the other hand, Norse was now petting Crookshanks, looking pleased.

“Now then, what is the plan for our daring escape?” Flamel snapped excitedly.

“Hate to disappoint you, but it won’t be too _daring_ or exciting. The plan is you get outside your shell, and move us down the river until we’re out of the forest. The Magi after us shouldn’t be able to stop you, if you bull rush them—what with no working magic and all. Plus, they don’t even know what you look like. So—“

_*Boom…..*_

They all heard something explode in the distance, and exited the house. Outside, they could see a long trail of smoke ascending to the sky. Near the bottom of the trail, orange light flickered in its silhouette. The Forgiven sharpened their ears, and could hear some screaming accompanied by more explosions.

“That’s coming from the settlement,” Liar observed. “If they’re interrogating the locals, it won’t be long until they’ve discerned our whereabouts.”

“Just perfect. I thought things were going a little too well for us.” Grimm grabbed Flamel’s giant beard. “What are you waiting for, old man? Get us the hell out of here!!”

“Right-o!!”

The crab took his place under the shell and began shuffling his legs at blurring speeds. Passengers on the shell jerked from the sudden vertigo, likened to a boat suddenly blasted at full throttle. The only thing keeping them from flying off was their death grips on Flamel’s shell.

Liar continued to look out at the trailing smoke shrinking in the distance.

“How did they manage that? It’s not magic, is it?”

**“It is possible our enemy is resorting to Muggle weapons.”**

“Maybe, but I doubt they’d really let go of their pride as Magi. We should assume they found some sort of alternative. Nick!” Grimm called to Flamel. “Is there really no way of using magic in this forest?”

“Organic types of magic, such as herbs and potions may still have effect, but nothing to provoke such a reaction you are suggesting. As long as I have been here, I have found nothing in the way of casting spells without interference.”

Grimm bit down on her thumbnail, her lip scar stinging a bit. “How are they doing it….?! My bad feeling’s getting worse.”

….

 **“”What bad feeling?””** Norse and Liar questioned her. A familiar sense of foreboding shadowed their words.

“For one thing, Troll Garden united the other Mercenary Guilds into an alliance, which is why they’re not fighting each other. That’s no easy feat.”

**“The cowards are banding together.”**

“It’s more than that. They’re organized. While I was doing my sweeps, the groups were intermingled, side by side, despite all the bad blood between them. Whoever brought them together, whoever’s leading them— _they’re good_.”

“…..You suspect the mysterious leader of Troll Garden. Even our information has turned up nothing about his or her identity,” Liar piped up.

Grimm nodded and bit her thumbnail harder.

“They might be the one we’ve been looking for.”

**“The one after the Sorcerer’s Stone.”**

“Voldemort,” Liar echoed all their thoughts.

Flamel flinched and bucked a bit at hearing the name.

“Oi! Eyes on the road, Flamel! You should get used to us calling him by his real name, we do that a lot,” said Grimm.

“Hm hm hm! My word, from the moment our fates first crossed to this very second, you three never cease to provide outstanding circumstance! Vol- Voldemort! Oh, how delightful!!”

“So, you suppose he’s figured a way to use magic in the forest?” Liar continued.

“Wouldn’t put it past him. Asshole almost conquered the Wizarding World and all.”

 **“I will scout ahead,”** Norse suggested.

The large witch morphed into her penguin form. After adjusting her radio onto her body, the bird leapt into the waters, and swam ahead of Flamel.

They traveled this way for hours. Grimm took on her fox transformation and used her acute sense of hearing as a radar. Liar was inside the house taking inventory of the equipment they had, which wasn’t much. Some camping supplies and a few tools to be used as crude weapons. The only thing worthy of note was Flamel’s large cache of drugs, which the young man had an idea for.

 _*MRAW*_ Crookshanks meowed loudly.

“I believe we should direct our attention above,” Flamel suggested.

Grimm, who was tracking their immediate surroundings, never turned her senses upward. Once she did, the fox saw what Crookshanks was alerting them of.

A large flock of Thestrals were patrolling the skies. On the back of the bat winged horses, were witches and wizards wearing the colored cloaks of their guilds. As soon as they caught sight of Flamel’s giant body, they condensed into a massive black cloud, and dove towards them like a swarm of bees.

Liar worked furiously to mix the right flammable ingredients together in Flamel’s work bench. When he finished, he chucked a large stock of recreational herbs into the house’s hearth.

“Best to do this quick, while they’re still clumped together! Apologies, Flamel. I’m sure you can prepare more later.”

“Not to worry. This escape is most exhilarating!”

“An adrenaline junky in search of cheap, life threatening thrills. Indeed, welcome to the Forgiven.”

Liar lit the herbs, and the stock went ablaze in an instant. Out from the chimney top shell came rainbow colored clouds. Heaps of billowing smoke covered the pursuing Thestrals and blinded them. Short moments later, some of the dark horses started dropping like dead flies, out of the clouds and into the grounds with disconcerting thuds.

-

_*Beep Bip Bip Beep*_

Not allowing them to bask in their brief moment of victory, Liar and Grimm turned their attention to their radios. They listened to Norse’s transmission and cursed in frustration. The Mercenary Guilds’ ground teams were informed of the party’s location and were working on cutting them off.

Grimm stuck her head out the window.

“Flamel! They’re heading this way! Don’t hesitate for a second! Run them over, or smack them out of the way. They can’t outmuscle you.”

“Right-o! I’ll show these rambunctious riff raffs a thing or two about tussling with the likes of us!”

“Don’t let your guard down! If they really can use magic, take them out before they can cast it!”

At the end of her sentence, as if right on cue, several witches and wizards appeared from the tree line. The mercenaries made their way into the river in an attempt to block the giant crab’s path. They drew their wands and took aim at the approaching crustacean.

“Allons-y!!” Flamel cried, and bashed through them like a wild bronco. The individuals not in his direct path were sent flying by his outstretched claws.  “RAAAHHHAHAHAHA!!!” the Alchemist let out a roaring laughter.

“Don’t get cocky, old man! That was only the scout team. They were just feeling us out!”

Liar looked back at their pursuers.

“Did you see the way they pointed their wands? They were fully intent on using magic.”

“I didn’t see any sort of trick to it. Did you?”

Liar shook his head.

“Nothing I observed,” Flamel added.

_*Beep Beep Bip Bip Beep*_

A new transmission from Norse told them more enemies were set up down the river. Grimm, Liar, and Flamel, could see shadows moving in the trees. It seemed this time, they were going to attack from the sides instead of directly. Wands appeared from the shadows and behind the cover of the forest. Liar and Grimm instinctively took cover.

Almost all at once, a great many voices incanted. Various colored lights burned and faded in the trees along the banks. Some of the spells backfired, quite a few simply did nothing, but a small number of them produced tangible effect, as magic projectiles flew.

Ice, fire, and lightning whizzed through the air and struck Flamel’s hide. Fortunately, none of the spells did significant damage, _this time around_. It was thanks to the Alchemist’s thick exoskeleton and shell the three remained unharmed.

“So _that’s_ how they’re doing it. Simple shot gunning. Rather crude and unimaginative, don’t you think?”

“Maybe so, Liar, but it works. They’re making the most out of their superior numbers.”

“An exploit of the fact that magic will work a very small percentage of the time. Dubious!” Flamel remarked.

The three passed through another volley of projectiles. Though some were small, one or two were amplified by the forest’s effects, and punched with enough force to create cracks in Flamel’s armor. The great creature tipped over a bit, almost falling sideways, but managed to tilt himself back.

“That was a close one!”

“How are you doing, Flamel?”

“Not too well, Ms. Grimm. I’m afraid their attacks are not only harmful, but cumbersome as well. My speed is suffering, as a result.”

“Shite! The next ambush is coming up!” Grimm pulled several knives and went outside. “I’m taking the left bank! Liar, you do something about the right!”

“Got it, boss! Apologies again, Flamel! These seem to be good vintages too!” Liar said with regret, as he turned the Alchemist’s alcohol collection into Molotov cocktails.

A small lamenting sigh could be heard from the crab.

“To your health!” Liar yelled, as he pitched one of the Molotovs perfectly into the face of a mercenary. A burning scream accompanied the flames.

If Grimm listened carefully, she could hear Liar cackling like a sadistic villain. It seemed the young man awoke to his inner pyromaniac. But Grimm pretended not to hear it.

_This is one of those things you act like you don’t notice…._

The small witch bit down on her dagger and leapt off Flamel’s shell. Midway through her jump, she morphed into her fox form, and darted into the forest. She didn’t bother with killing blows, since she merely needed to prevent the enemy from keeping up with Flamel’s speed.

The red blur darted across the mercenaries’ legs. With the blade in her teeth, Grimm sliced through their flesh like butter. One by one they fell, clutching their bloody legs in pain.

On the other side of the river, fire roared and sent panic among the magi. Almost none of them able to keep composure to cast spells. The ones who did, had their incantations misfire or rendered null.

No further damage came to Flamel as he continued to make his way to the exit. With the crab’s speed, and the interference by Grimm and Liar, the distance from their pursuers widened to an almost irrecoverable margin.

The leader of the Forgiven returned atop Flamel’s back with heavy, panted breath. Liar helped her up and then sat next to her.

“Is it me…! Or can I believe…falling back?”

“They’re mercenaries…! So they’ll lose heart…! If the threat to their life…outweighs the chance of reward.”

They both took a long breather to calm their beating hearts.

“…..This isn’t the end, is it?”

Grimm knitted her hands and stared out into the forest, as if facing an opponent only she could see.

“Doubtful. I’m sure the mastermind behind this has at least one more play to make. I can see him across the chessboard, waiting to move his final piece,” she answered.

“Paints quite a picture. So who holds the advantage in this mental game of yours?”

“…….He does. He knows we’re following the river. There’s going to be a big trap at the end.”

“And then, checkmate? Should we consider an alternative route?”

“The river doesn’t branch anymore. And if we try to move on land, we’ll be too slow, and they’ll surround us regardless.”

“So we have no choice, but to react to their trap. Wonderful…..” Liar groaned.

“Any ideas?” Grimm asked Flamel.

“Regretfully, no. It seems for all my knowledge of Alchemy, I should have perhaps allocated some time to studying military warfare.”

“We’ll make sure to school you some, old man. Soon as we’re out of this mess.”

“You assume we will live through this ordeal.”

“We always make it through, somehow. We’re the Forgiven.”

“Hmm…..There is absolutely nothing to base your proclamations on, but I am inclined to trust your words.”

“And that’s why Grimm’s the boss, and we all just work for her,” Liar joked.

Grimm elbowed his ribs.

“How’s your stamina?”

“Shoulder’s blasted from chucking those Molotovs, which we are all out of, by the way. Yours?”

“Spent. I can barely move. So the only ones who can really fight are Norse and Flamel. Things aren’t looking too good right now.”

Liar lit a cigarette and shared it with Grimm. All they could do was recuperate as much as they could before the final battle.

.

\----------------------------

.

_*Beep Bip Bip Bip Beep!!!*_

 

When Norse’s transmission came in, Grimm and Liar stared at the radio in disbelief. They wanted to grab the thing and throw it as hard into the forest as they could. The message indicated a trap so far removed from what they expected, Norse repeated the Morse code a few more times to clarify.

Grimm took one last drag of the cigarette before flicking it away in disdain.

“You’ve got to be focking kidding me….!”

“How the hell did they manage—…! How do we even begin to counter something like that?!” Liar yelled.

“Um…Would one of you be kind as to fill me in on our predicament?”

“Oh, yes, sure. Here’s what’s happening, Flamel. There’s **a BLOODY TRIBE OF FOCKING TROLLS** waiting for us near the exit!!!” Liar exploded with a mix of anger and irritation.

“Trolls?!”

“Bloody focking tribe of them…!” Grimm cursed, as she lit another cigarette.

“I believe you were sure of our survival not too long ago.”

“Yes, but that was before TROLLS! You know. Big fockers, poor tempers, hard to kill, even _with_ magic.”

“With my current condition, I may be able to fight…..one.”

“’ _Troll_ Garden’. You’d think the name was only for show,” Grimm spat.

“Voldemort’s always had a way with trolls and giants and the sort. If it is him, that is.”

Grimm moaned in frustration.

“And then, there’s the whole fleet of angry sods coming at us from our behinds,” Liar supplemented.

Grimm moaned louder in frustration.

_*Splash*_

Out from the water, came a penguin. After a small shake of her body, which sprinkled Grimm and Liar, the witch returned to her human form. Liar took out another cigarette for her and the three smoked in silence for a while.

 **“I have a plan,”** Norse signed with confidence.

….

…..

……

“ _That_ is the most ballsy, insane play, I’ve ever heard in my life.” Grimm blew a large puff of smoke into the air. “Sounds fun.”

“That is madness!” Flamel said with a mixture of fear and awe.

“Heh! Haven’t you figured it out, Flamel? Madness and ballsy are some of our group’s specialties.”

Norse beamed with pride, and rest hands on her hips.

.

\--------------------

.

As the party reached the outer edges of the Betwixting Forest, a number of great looming figures came to view.

Spread across the river were Trolls eleven feet tall. Each of them with their own shabby weapons; blunt instruments, axes, swords, and crude maces. Every tribesman wore tattoos and primitive ornaments to identify their rank and accomplishments.

The Forgiven stopped about forty feet from them and unmounted the side of Flamel’s back. The river was fairly shallow now, only reaching up the middle of their calves. All four of the party eyed the enemy Trolls in an intense stare.

Norse scanned them and settled her glare on one in particular. Her target possessed the most adornments and the best weapon of the whole tribe. The blonde witch knew that this one was their Chieftain, and the most dominant warrior of their herd.

With a fierce smile and murderous bloodlust emanating from her, Norse pointed to the Troll Chieftain, challenging him to battle. Her hair glowed as bright as the afternoon sun above. Though the witch was silent, her disposition, her body language, and her posture spoke volumes in speech’s place. Like an angry gorilla she pounded her chest, and rushed at the Tribal Leader.

In response to the display, the Troll bellowed an obnoxious roar. He slammed his great axe into the water and dragged it through the river, as he went to meet his foe. The onlookers could only feel a certain sense of awe upon watching the two warriors about to clash.

Norse took careful measure of the space separating them and timed her move with absolute precision. Not only did she have to win; she had to make it look _easy_ , and excessively brutal.

When Norse was close enough, she invoked the Origin Magic that dwelled in her body. The tattoo over her heart shined with the same color and brightness as her hair.

_Fortis DEUS **FULGUUUUR!!!**_

The witch picked up her speed to leap into the Chieftain’s guard. Before the Troll could react, Norse positioned herself in the pocket.

She bent her front knee and loaded her whole weight into it. Lightning crackled and yellow electricity could be seen fluctuating along her right leg and arm. Her blood vessels traced with energy like an unstable dynamo.

Norse condensed the spell to its most critical point.

_*SNAP*_

In an instant, the witch released the built up power inside her. Thunder screamed and a great shockwave caused the surrounding water to pulse.

Norse delivered a lightning fueled upper cut to the Chieftain’s jaw. The Troll’s head snapped all the way back upon the collision. Its lower face blew completely off, and was sent flying up into the sky.

“Rrrhrrrr,” the already dead Chieftain moaned. His head flopped with its tongue sticking out with nothing to keep it in. The large corpse teetered for a while before collapsing into the water. Three seconds later, the mangled lower jaw fell back to the earth and plopped into the river.

No one spoke or moved for the longest time.

….

“She just…!”

“Yeah, Liar.”

“Did you see—“

“Yeah.”

“I mean, we knew—“

“Yeah.”

“And when she told us, we said okay—“

“Yea—“

“SHE JUST _PUNCHED_ A FOCKING TROLL!!!” Liar whooped. “Bloody. Focking…. _PUNCHED_ IT!!”

“Norse is kind of hot….” Grimm said, in disbelief.

Norse stared back at them expectantly.

“Huh? Oh!” Grimm remembered with a hurry. “OH, YEAH! Remember the plan, you idiots!!”

All at once, Grimm, Liar, and Flamel began clamoring and howling at the top of their lungs. While they shouted their battle cries, they threw their arms in the air and swung them as violently as they could. They also pounded their chests like Norse had done before.

Meanwhile, Norse walked over the Chieftain’s dead body and removed his head. She lifted it up, like a trophy for all the Trolls to see. Her three cheerleaders in the back howled even louder.

Seeing the Forgiven’s overwhelming victory over their leader, and the savage acts that followed, the Trolls started taking involuntary steps backward.

It was a display as old as the dawn of time. Trolls were very much like animals, in that they adhered to a pack mentality. The Forgiven reasoned, if they took out the leader, they would emulate the role of becoming the Alpha, or pack leader–or at the very least, they wanted to instill fear and doubt into the rest of the tribe.

Because truthfully, they would not be able to replicate the event again.

Origin Magic, was a natural ability the Forgiven could perform only once. It burned their body’s emergency magic reserves to nothing. Norse wouldn’t be able to cast another spell until she had a good night’s rest.

So with that in mind, the Forgiven made the biggest bluff of their lives. They hollered until their throats cracked from too much use. Flamel flailed his claws like he was performing an angry crab dance. They stomped the river and splashed water everywhere.

It would have looked ridiculous in any other context, but in the wake of the Chieftain’s death, the Trolls were afraid for their lives. Each one of them was personally beaten by their leader into submission. It was only natural, they would be fearful.

And then Norse stepped towards them. Calm, but deliberate strides, the blonde witch stalked into the enemy ranks. Her hair flowed and blazed, like a warrior deity descended. Grimm, Liar, and Flamel put their best intimidating faces on and followed her.

Like parting the seas, the Trolls backed away, and gave them a wide berth. It took them forever to walk through, but they couldn’t look rushed or panicked, lest they give their bluff away. So they put up with the excruciating act, as their stomachs did twists and turns.

_“What are you Trolls doing?! Catch them!!!”_

The Forgiven turned around and saw mercenaries catching up.

“I believe that is the signal for our departure!” Flamel yelped. He snatched up Grimm, Liar, and Norse; and threw them onto his shell.

“Onwards, noble steed!” Liar declared.

The hermit crab skittered as fast as it could across the water. Some Trolls around them were unsure what to do. A few gave chase, but by the time their doubts dissipated, they were too far behind the speeding crustacean.

“I see it! The end of the forest! WE’VE MADE IT!” Liar cheered.

**“That is a waterfall.”**

“Of course, it’s a waterfall,” Grimm sighed.

“Hold on tight, my young friends!!”

Crookshanks meowed in horror.

Flamel jumped over the edge and fell through the air. As they all plummeted to their deaths, Grimm and Liar had the exact same thought.

While holding onto the Alchemist’s shell, they pulled their wands from their pockets and took aim at their pursuers, looking over the waterfall’s edge.

_“FULGUR MAXIMA!”_

_“FULGUR MAXIMA!”_

Lightning drew a jagged arc and electrocuted the waters their enemies stood on. A last “fock you” before the Forgiven’s departure.

“Bodyslide for four?” Liar posed with a victorious smile.

_And a moment later, the Forgiven disappeared into thin air…._

 


	26. The Forgiven Break Bad

 

** Chapter 26 – The Forgiven Break Bad **

.

_Previously on The Forgiven: Grimm, Norse, and Liar successfully abduct Nicholas Flamel, and recruit him into their secret coven. After fighting off an army of Mercenary Wizarding Guilds and a whole tribe of Trolls, they manage to escape the Betwixting Forest._

_._

_._

In the Underground Base, Dumbledore, Moody, and Kingsley sat at a dining table, listening to the Forgiven’s report. During the briefing, a small break was taken to serve some tea and snacks.

“This is a pleasant surprise. It isn’t often you three provide refreshments,” Dumbledore commented.

“We decided to try making some sweets and cooking. Don’t make a big thing out of it,” Grimm answered, while she, Norse, and Liar took their seats.

“Hm. Then I shall hold my tongue,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Kingsley and Moody took sips of their tea, before settling back into business.

“So….Flamel’s dead?” asked Mad Eye.

“Found his place sacked. Dead body on the floor. Looked like the Killing Curse did him in.”

Kingsley sighed.

“But you made sure the perpetrators didn’t get away with any Elixir?”

“Not a single drop. Had hell of a time hunting them through the forest though,” Liar responded, while drinking from his tea cup. An action Dumbledore paid close attention to.

“And the Elixir you acquired from them?”

 **“We disposed of it. We thought it for the best,”** Norse explained, and popped one of the candies into her mouth.

Again Dumbledore took note of the action. The complete safety of partaking in the tea and snacks was confirmed when Grimm also devoured one of the cookies whole. The wizened wizard breathed a hidden sigh of relief as he ate one of the sweets the Forgiven made.

“Grimm, you mentioned the leader of Troll Garden.”

“Yes. I have a hunch he’s the one we’ve been looking for. He’s either Voldemort, or someone related to him.”

“I’ll use the Ministry’s resources to dig up what I can.” Kingsley ate a piece of cake and made a small mumble. “This is quite good.”

“Right? Who knew I had talent for the culinary arts?” Liar boasted.

“In any case, it’s a shame about Flamel, but he lived more than his share of life. Otherwise, you’ve done well. Take some R&R before you go after our mystery guild leader.” Moody took a vicious bite of a biscuit.

The three saluted at Mad Eye’s orders.

“Unfortunately, some conditions at Hogwarts have changed,” Dumbledore started. “We will require the Forgiven’s extra protection of the Stone.”

 _*Sigh*_ “I thought things would turn out that way. Sure you don’t want to— _I don’t know_ —destroy the damned thing, and save everyone the trouble?”

“Hm….If it comes to that, I will do so without hesitation. Otherwise, it would be a shame to destroy such a revolutionary testament to magical engineering.” Dumbledore took a sip of his tea.

When the Headmaster set his cup down, a subtle smile crept over Grimm’s face. But when the ancient wizard addressed her again, the grin was erased.

“Please take five days to recuperate, and then make ready for Hogwarts.”

The Forgiven nodded to the orders.

…

“Well, at least the Flamel _s_ can rest easy, right?” Grimm added.

For a small moment, Dumbledore sat absentminded.

“Ah, yes. My friend and his wife will be well taken care of until the end of this incident.”

“That’s _great_ to hear.”

Grimm launched a victorious cookie into her mouth.

.

\-----------------------------------------

.

Right after the mission briefing was over, the Forgiven made for one of their safe houses.

It was an island normally invisible unless a small poem was recited. Not even the Forgivers knew of its existence. Grimm, Liar, and Norse, wanted to make sure they had a place to retreat to in case the worst should happen, including a possible betrayal by the Forgivers.

On the island home away from home, stood a small castle. The three burst in from one of the windows and flew to the underground lab below. There, they found a giant, red crab humming to himself as he worked on some manner of concoction. Realizing the presence of the three, the Alchemist paused his work to greet them.

“Welcome back to your humble abode. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve made a few changes.”

The Forgiven already noticed the basement was now decorated into a bigger version of Flamel’s inner shell house.

“Feel free to change the rest of the place too. It’s not like you should feel limited to just one room. You _are_ the one who’s going to be living here from now on,” Grimm suggested.

“Understood. And thank you for providing me with such a _lovely_ estate. I can’t imagine how much coin you had to spend for it.”

“The fellow who owned it didn’t need it anymore, so it came at a very good discount. One could say, it was even _criminal,_ ” Liar said with a wink.

The Alchemist gave an uncomfortable laugh and started coughing.

 **“You should take time to clean your new home.”** Norse took notice of Flamel’s beard and laughed. **“Your beard has grown filthy from being used as a broom.”**

“Ah!” Flamel grumbled, as he moved around and noticed his long beard sweep the dusty floors.

Norse pulled on the grand facial hair and began weaving it. While she did so, the crab continued the conversation.

“I am to assume the memory modification drugs went well?”

“All according to plan. As expected, Dumbledore was skeptical at first, but after he saw us take the tea and snacks ourselves, he let his guard down.”

“Didn’t notice that none of us took both at the same time,” Liar chimed in. “Very clever to put half the drug in the tea and the other half in the snacks.”

“Even then, it was difficult concealing the flavor. But I doubt we would have fooled my old friend, if we didn’t do at least that much.”

“Now that the hard part’s done…” Grimm pulled out her wand. “…it’s time for the next order of business. You need to make some Unbreakable Vows.”

“Um…..Vow _s_? How many?”

Grimm pulled out a scroll from her sleeve and unfurled it. The parchment rolled out long enough to reach the floor.

“Oh, dear.”

“We have to take precautions. The Forgiven are under a similar number of Unbreakable Vows, so just bear with it, alright?”

The crab expressed some apprehension, but nodded all the same.

…

…

Grimm held one of Flamel’s claws, while Norse and Liar held the other. From both of the crustacean’s pincers, countless silvery threads bound him to the three he swore to. They all felt the magic bind their lives to the words Grimm recited.

“…And lastly, you are forbidden from creating anymore Sorcerer’s Stones.”

“I swear.”

“By the moon and the stars in the sky~♪” Liar sung.

“Shut up.”

The ephemeral white threads of the Vows sunk into their skins. When the magic was complete, they separated. Flamel clicked his laws, while examining them.

“Will that be all then?”

“Of course not. You need to earn your keep after all.”

“You have an assignment for me?”

“We need you to forge a fake Sorcerer’s Stone. One that can fool even Albus. You’ve got five days, until we leave for Hogwarts,” Grimm ordered.

If Flamel had a human face, it would be frowning.

“I suppose if I get started tonight, I _might_ be able to forge a decent counterfeit by the time of your departure.”

Grimm walked over and patted his shoulder.

“You mean, you _will_ forge a _perfect_ counterfeit by the time of our departure.”

“Very well, Ms. Grimm. At your behest.”

“If you need help, Liar’s been our potion maker this whole time. And if it comes down to it, I can help as well. Just need it before the deadline.”

“Oh!” Liar suddenly gasped. “I just realized I won’t have to brew our Polyjuice Potions anymore! Huzzah!”

“Almost forgot about that. Make Polyjuice Potions when you can. We go through a lot of them on our missions, and cause of Norse, so try to keep a good stock. Medicine too!”

“And drugs!”

“What?! Why drugs?”

“So we may sell them, _obviously,”_ Liar said matter-of-factly.

“We’re drug dealers now?”

“How do you suppose we gather intel on Troll Garden’s leader. Buy it with Knuts and Sickles? We’ve hardly killed or robbed anyone rich as of late. Our funds are running low.”

“……” Grimm turned to Flamel. “Make drugs.” She turned back to Liar. “Do NOT sell them to children!”

“The fact you need to clarify that point is a bit insulting.”

Flamel groaned and started scribbling a list. When he finished, he handed it to Grimm.

“I will require these ingredients to synthesize the counterfeit Sorcerer’s Stone, as well as your other requests.”

The leader of the Forgiven looked the list up and down, and handed it to Liar.

“Take care of it.”

“Hm. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Consider them yours, Nick.”

And with that, the wizard Disapparated.

“Anything else?”

“Crookshanks has been eager to see you. He should be roaming somewhere on the island.”

“Seriously?”

“He’s very fond of bright, young women. He was very partial to my wife, before she passed.”

Grimm gave him a sympathetic shrug before leaving to find the feline.

…

…

“…..Now, I believe you have something to ask of me?”

Norse was putting the finishing touches to Flamel’s braided beard. It was wonderfully done, bearing some resemblance to those the Vikings styled long ago. It gave the crab a sort of noble image.

**“You must help me synthesize another Sorcerer’s Stone.”**

“What? But the Unbreakable Vows—“

**“Forbid you from creating one yourself. They do not include instructing me to construct one for myself.”**

“I see….That is true. But why?”

**“You know why. Liar needs the Elixir of Life, whether he admits it or not.”**

The crab’s protruding eyes inched closely to Norse. They seemed to be measuring how resolute she was of her decision.

“The lad will hate you for this.”

**“IF he finds out.”**

“I suppose he wouldn’t be suspicious until he’s over a century old,” Flamel joked. “…..He’s a clever boy. It won’t be long until he notices.”

**“Even so, I will force feed him the serum if need be.”**

“……Very well. I cannot possibly refuse, after seeing you act so earnestly.”

Norse tried to wrap her arms around his large body for a hug.

**_“Thank you…”_ **

 


	27. Nonet

 

** Chapter 27 – Nonet **

**. **

It was the middle of November. The seasons were mid-transition between fall and winter, which left the days a touch chillier and the wind a bit harsher.

Working in her classroom and grading papers, was one of the most diligent and reliable professors to ever teach at Hogwarts’ School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She carried the reputation of being hard, but fair; intelligent and kind. Strong in her beliefs, with a sharp temper to match her tongue. All her students, as well as her peers—including the Headmaster—showed her the respect she so rightly deserved.

Her name was Minerva McGonagall, and she was Hogwarts’ Transfiguration Professor.

With a furrowed brow she looked over a student’s essay for what had to be the third time now. The teacher removed her spectacles and massaged her tired eyes.

_I don’t know if it’s my sight or Neville’s paper that’s making this such a trial to read…._

….

…. _Or maybe it’s my age…._

The witch took a deep breath before delving back into her work again. As she readjusted her glasses and ventured a start into the fourth battle with the parchment, a distant sound of whooping could be heard outside. Through her window she saw small red and yellow specks whipping through the air.

McGonagall watched the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice their maneuvers and felt a soft pang in her heart. It reminded her of when she was younger and part of the Quidditch team. She recalled the wind on her face, the thrill of the match, and the feeling of absolute exhilaration like it were just yesterday. After a moment of thought, she couldn’t remember the last time she rode on a broom.

The longer she watched the soaring students, the more she reminisced back on how blissful those days truly were. She remembered the times of practicing her Animagus transformations. How she played in the school’s fields and napped under the comfortable sun as a feline. It had its own unique joy to transform your being and act on whatever instinct you wished. Many of the teachers and students mistook her for a stray, which was additionally enjoyable for her.

Looking on those times now passed, McGonagall cracked a bitter smile to herself. Trying not to think on it any further, she reached for her wand to close the blinds. The professor gave it a few waves, but the drapes only responded with a slight shake.

She frowned down at her wand and tried again. This time she managed to move the blinds, but in very slow fashion.

McGonagall stared down at her wand again.

_It’s old….I must procure a replacement…._

A deep, soulful sigh escaped her.

 _“Looks a bit frayed,”_ came a young voice.

When McGonagall turned to the source, she saw an elegant red fox sitting on the window sill. The drapes she closed a second ago were now blowing in the open wind.

“Greetings, Professor.”

From the playful tone it spoke in, McGonagall could imagine a young woman smiling pleasantly; despite the fox not having a human face.

“Hm. And greetings to you, as well. I do not recall any students practicing Animagus transformations, so I am rather curious as to who you might be?”

“How do you know I’m an Animagus and not some magical fox?”

“Because I have the oddest feeling we’ve met before, and I’m sure I’ve no acquaintance to any magically talking foxes.”

The Animagus named Grimm gave a light chuckle.

“Well, how about that.”

McGonagall couldn’t help but admire the fox’s vibrant coat. With its crimson fur accentuated by the shining sun, it brought heat to one’s eyes. The professor couldn’t help thinking she wanted to pet her, but fought down the impulse.

“You know, ever since I learned to take this form, I’ve always wanted to go out and play with you someday. Just run out and venture into the Forbidden Forest, or something of the like. Perhaps that day is today?”

“I’m a bit too old to ‘play’ or go on adventures.”

“You’re old?” Grimm teased.

“Hmph.”

“If you come with me, I’ll impart to you a _very_ rare gift.”

The professor chuckled sweetly.

“You sound like those mischievous faeries of old fables, who whisk away naive children. Or perhaps a tempting apparition trying to prank me with the lure of false riches.”

“Perhaps. But you’re too _old_ and wise, so I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to trick you.”

The girl’s emphasis on _old_ provoked another “hmph” from McGonagall. As suspicious as the fox was, she couldn’t help but feel a sort of giddiness at the thought of playing along with the young sprite’s request. Whether it was the ridiculously open friendliness, the playful tone in her words, or the set up scenery out of fairy tales, the fox Animagus seemed to be pushing all the right buttons. And of course, the simple promise of “a rare gift” pulled at the heartstrings of any adventure lover.

“ _Sly,_ ” McGonagall commented.

The one word brought a detectable smile from Grimm.

“I will be keeping an eye on you for any sign of trickery.”

The fox made a deep bow.

“But of course……Now let’s go! Hurry! Hahaha~♪!” Grimm leapt up and down on her four paws, and jumped out the window.

“Wait!” the professor called out.

But the fox was already making its descent down the side of the tower.

 _I must be daft…_ McGonagall thought.

Then with a devilish grin, she morphed into her cat form, and chased after her mysterious companion. The soft grass tickled her feet as she ran and caught up with the fox. They both sprinted across the fields, and into the Forbidden Forest.

Together they weaved through the trees, took turns leading, and chased each other for playful sport. The fast moving pair came across all manner of creatures and stunning sceneries on their “quest”.

McGonagall had forgotten how immense the Forbidden Forest was. She remembered Dumbledore showing her a map once, and most of the landscape remained uncharted to this day. By estimation, the forest was something about ten times the size of the school, or larger.

In a wide grass clearing, McGonagall and Grimm ran into a herd of wild unicorns. The two dashed about beside the white stallions and dared to ride on some of them. They would hop to another, and then another like a wild game of hopscotch. When they had their fill of that, the pair detected a familiar presence nearby.

Not ten seconds into the trees did they find a rather large man and his dog. Fang barked at the fox and cat, almost breaking away from his owner. The incessant woofing was quickly silenced by a piercing hiss from McGonagall.

“HAHA! Cat shut you righ’ up, didn’ she, Fang?” Hagrid laughed. “Whoa!”

The fox began running dizzying circles around him, and then climbed up his shoulder. She butted her head against his fondly.

“Hrah hrah hrah! Well! Aren’t you ah beauty!” he exclaimed, while petting her. “Don’ think I’ve ever seen you around befor’. Hm….” Hagrid stared at the cat. “But I think ‘ve seen _you_ …” He scratched his beard in thought.

“Not a word to anyone, Hagrid.”

“Buah! Professor McGonagall?!”

“Not. A. Word….To anyone.”

Hagrid’s back immediately straightened and he gave a stiff nod.

“Yer secret’s safe wif me. But if I may say, ‘is ain’t nothin’ to be embarrass’d about.”

 _“Hehehe~_ _♪!”_ Grimm giggled and hopped off Hagrid’s shoulder.

After bidding goodbye to him, the fox and cat continued their journey.

They passed along more amazing sights ever seen only by a handful of individuals. The two taunted giant spiders and outran them when the arachnids gave chase. Against the professor’s better judgment, they did the same to some centaurs, who took high offense to having their tails pulled. Though any misgivings by McGonagall and Grimm were shed away by the simple, but fulfilling delight in their freedom and superior agility.

Finally, they reached the end of their quest; a frontier edge off a steep cliff. The two looked down and could barely see the bottom through the shadows.

“Hm. So what is our nex—?!”

Midway through McGonagall’s sentence, her fox friend shoved her over the edge with her back leg.

_Oh….She would have given me detention for a whole year if I did that while I was still a student._

The cat fell far and fast, uncertain of what would happen next. Her legs spread out like a paratrooper trying to gather as much air resistance they could. Eventually, the ground rose to greet her and her feline instincts assumed control of her body.

_*FWISH*_

The cat landed into a thick pile of leaves, safe and sound. Her heart beat like mad. She felt tingly from her toes to her pointed ears. A moment later, her betrayer joined her in the pile of leaves.

_*FWISH*_

Grimm laughed playfully like she’d done so many times before, and McGonogall swatted some leaves in her face.

“I knew you would be fine~♪ Even if the leaves weren’t here, cats always land on their feet, don’t they?”

“A very poor excuse if there ever was one.”

“Still. It was fun. Wasn’t it, professor?”

McGonogall swatted some more leaves at the fox.

“Hahaha~♪!”

“I would prefer you _not_ test more of my feline qualities, if that is your intention. Specifically, the one concerning nine lives.”

“Ah ha~♪ Caught on to that, did you?”

“I was correct?”

“Calm thoughts, professor. I was only kidding— _for the most part_.”

“You’ll forgive me, if I don’t feel particularly trusting at the moment.”

“That’s okay. Well then, a question for you.” Grimm started to circle McGonogall with a pensive stride. “Do you know the myths concerning a cat’s Nine Lives?”

“Hm. I’ve read several,” she answered.

“Then stop me if you’ve heard this one before.

Once upon a time, there was an immortal. A witch who lived through the ages and watched all those around her die and fade. After this happened several times, she grew saddened and retreated to a life of isolation, never wanting to befriend someone again only to watch them die. Wishing for a true partner to keep her company forever, a cat appeared before her.

‘I will not leave you,’ she said. ‘I will be with you until the end of your days and the days after.’

The witch agreed to her company and they became friends.

Unfortunately, after some long years, the cat died. Alone again, the witch made the same wish and found a new cat before her, making the same promise as the previous one. The immortal opened her heart again only to have her new friend die as well.

This cycle repeated itself, and every death took away a piece of the woman’s heart. On the ninth time, the witch refused the cat’s offer. It was then, the feline revealed she was the same one who returned to her over and over again in a new reincarnation.

The witch wept and when her friend died for the ninth time, she took the final piece of the witch’s heart with her. Both of them able to rest their mortal bodies and begin the next journey beyond death.”

Grimm halted her step at finishing the story. Seemingly out of thin air, the fox now held a beautifully carved wand in her mouth. She strode before McGonagall and laid it at her feet.

“During the immortal witch’s life, she forged a wand made from the nine cat claws from her friend’s nine lives.” Grimm paused and cracked a foxy grin. “At least, that’s how the story goes. Don’t know if it’s true, but either way, I present to you your gift.”

McGonagall reverted into her human form and picked up the wand.

The moment she touched it, she felt the artifact warm to her touch. Almost like a cat purring softly to her fingers. The wand had chosen her new master.

“Precarious one, isn’t she? Most wand allegiances are won through battle, inheritance, or have to be brand new. This one on the other hand chooses outside of those rules. What say you? I remember you needing a new wand regardless.”

McGonagall chuckled softly.

“Does she have a name?”

The fox invoked a single word, almost soft like a whisper.

…

_“Nonet.”_

 


	28. Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

 

** Chapter 28: Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: After recruiting Nicolas Flamel, the Forgiven are ordered by Dumbledore to move to Hogwarts. There, the three are to provide additional secret security for the Sorcerer’s Stone._

_._

_._

In an empty classroom, Liar and Norse pinched the sides of a blanket covered object. With a swift motion of showmanship, the two Forgiven unveiled an antique mirror before Dumbledore and Grimm.

“Ta dah!! Behold, the most foolproof safeguard for your most treasured and beloved _boons!_ ” Liar paused for effect. “I present, **_The Mirror of Erised,”_** he crooned with mystical sarcasm.

Norse clapped, while Grimm sighed to herself.

“Come now, I believe this is something rather praiseworthy.”

“Liar. Whenever you thieve something _is_ the only time I find you praiseworthy, but it’s always ruined by you opening your mouth right afterwards.”

Dumbledore brushed his beard as he looked the mirror up and down.

“I’ve heard rumors of the Mirror’s attributes. Impressive. Your abilities to procure the rarest artifacts never ceases to amaze.”

Liar gave a curt bow. “Thank you, Albus. Unfortunately, there _is_ a slight problem.”

“What would that might be?”

“There’s already something _inside_ it. In order for the mirror to house the Sorcerer’s Stone, I’m afraid we must first draw forth the current contents.”

“Always a hurdle to jump,” Grimm remarked with annoyance. “How does the stupid thing work again? Shows us our heart’s desires. Then we can take the object if it’s hiding something we don’t want?”

“That would be correct, dear leader.”

“….Do we know what’s in it?”

“And therein lies the proverbial thorn in our buttocks. How can we repel our want for a prize, whose identity we do not know?”

“It appears we must relinquish as much of our worldly desires as possible,” Dumbledore proposed as he took his place in front of the mirror. Like a monk entering meditation, the Headmaster closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind of all superfluous thoughts and wishes.

While the aged wizard worked to unlock the artifact, the three Forgiven watched.

“So what did you lot see in the mirror?”

**“I saw myself wielding Mjolnir and devastating score after score of enemies. Do you think the mirror holds Mjolnir?!”**

“Uh….sure. Maybe. Liar?”

“Oh, loads of stuff! First I saw a sandwich, then an autographed album from the Beatles, then my mother, and then another sandwich—!”

“Okay. Stop. You’re making me hungry.”

“What a coincidence. I, too, feel a lonely emptiness in my stomach.”

Norse began drawing forlorn doodles of delicious sandwiches. Grimm brushed the yellow lighted projections with an annoyance.

“Stop that! You’re making me hungrier!”

After five minutes of waiting, Dumbledore turned to them, and shook his head.

“It seems I was unable to let go of my desires.”

“What did you see in the mirror?” Grimm asked him.

“A pair of socks,” the Headmaster smiled.

The small witch rolled her eyes.

“I’ll do it. There are only two things I want in this world, and I doubt my ‘forgiveness’ or Tonks are in there.” Grimm spared a glance at Norse and Liar, who were both crossing their arms. “…And you two are _out here_ , so you don’t count! Don’t pout like a couple of prats.”

Grimm was reluctant to stand before the mirror. She knew her desires and loathed the idea of them given clear form. Regardless, the young woman stepped forth with a heavy heart and steely breath. Her mouth felt dry, and she could feel pain crack the scar on her lips.

After a moment’s resolve, she peered into her own reflection. It had been a while since she last saw it. Grimm intentionally avoided mirrors most of the time, because she secretly loathed knowing how she looked. How many years had it been since she took in her full face?

Scarred and worn from battle. Rings formed around her eyes, which unnerved even herself. It was honestly a bit terrifying for her. Grimm thought she seemed somehow less than human.

_Do I really look like that now? I can hardly recognize myself._

The mirror began to distort her appearance. Grimm’s figure blurred and reformed into a more youthful, livelier version. A bright and blissful smiling her stared back. Beside her reflection was Tonks, holding her hand and—

Grimm slammed her fist hard against the mirror. The witch, barely able to control her strength enough from shattering the glass. Her breath became bated, and she seethed with anger.

The vision cleared, and Grimm began to see the Mirror portraying her exactly as she was. Then her reflection threw a frustrated hand into her pocket, and pulled out a golden object. Her copy dangled it for her to see and then pocketed it again.

Grimm turned from the Mirror and pulled out the prize. Dumbledore, Norse, and Liar eyed the artifact with intense curiosity.

It was an expertly crafted pocket watch.

The Headmaster took the timepiece and examined it closely for a time. He muttered a few lines of incantations to it, as if taking part in a private conversation. After discerning the special properties of the watch, he addressed the Forgiven.

“It appears to be a Time Turner.”

Liar was the first to show shock.

“That?!”

“Yes.”

“But it’s _size_! I’ve never known one to be so small!”

“Neither have I. This is a special prize indeed.”

 **“To turn back time would assist us greatly in our work,”** Norse pondered. **“But is that not odd?”**

“Now that you mention, how _was_ Grimm able to draw such a powerful artifact?” Liar looked to Grimm. “Does the ability to rewind time not tempting to you?”

Their leader observed the watch with no apparent emotion. Though her face portrayed none of her thought, her eyes were always a different matter. Within the witch’s irises lied something akin to willfulness….but also fear.

“Make sure to keep that thing away from me,” she said in a terse tone.

“Grimm?” Liar worried.

“……It’s too much power. If I ever used it…..” Grimm shook her head. Her self-control was being pushed to her limits. “Only bad things would come from it. Don’t tempt me.”

Such a tool would unbiddenly provoke abuses of power in the wrong hands. Grimm knew this more than anyone and feared what she would be capable of.

Dumbledore nodded in understanding and respect. He took the Time Turner out of Grimm’s sight and wrapped it in a small piece of cloth. Once he made sure it was secure, he faced the Forgiven’s leader again.

“I am proud of you, Grimm. I, myself, was not able to pull this from the Mirror. I doubt many ever could.”

“Yes, well…. thank you, Albus. Now get that thing away from me before I feel like stealing it back. If anyone ever uses it, make sure it’s for something stupid like taking more classes at the same time.”

Dumbledore made a short bow.

“I will see your intention carried out. And if you would like—“ He pulled out the Sorcerer’s Stone and handed it to Grimm. “—I will let you do the honors of taking care of this.”

And with that, the Headmaster left the three alone with the mirror.

Once the classroom door shut, the Forgiven looked to one another, and then the Stone resting in Grimm’s hand.

“It’s a test,” she said.

“It might not be,” Liar suggested.

 **“It is a test,”** Norse assured her.

“Shite. We were supposed to switch it without him knowing. He’s smarter than I give him credit for.”

“Or…” Liar started. “Or…It may be a sign he trusts us. Perhaps he expects us to take action independently from himself?”

**“You _have_ suggested to Albus we destroy it before. It is possible he is giving you permission.”**

“Plausible deniability…” Grimm muttered as she tossed the stone into the air and caught it. “I can see Albus playing things that way. Fine. Hand me the fake.”

Grimm tossed the real Stone to Liar, and he tossed back the fake one.

The small witch stared into the Mirror for a long moment again. Even if it wasn’t real, a part of her ached at seeing her dreams come true once more. A glimpse of the girl that should have been, instead of the hollow, damaged individual she was now. Her reflection began to distort—

“Whooooo is that girl I see~♪ Staring straight, back at me~♪” Liar started singing, while holding Grimm’s shoulders. “When will my reflection show, who I am….INSIDE!!~♪”

Grimm couldn’t help, but laugh and push Liar’s face away.

_That’s right. What the hell am I doing?_

She took a look into the Mirror and quickly pocketed the fake Stone. Afterwards, she patted herself and found that it had disappeared. Satisfied with the outcome, Grimm tapped the arms of her two comrades and bid them to exit the classroom with her.

_“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving….”_

 

 


	29. Duplicitous Nature

 

** Chapter 29 - Duplicitous Nature **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven: Liar provided Dumbledore with the Mirror of Erised to keep the Sorcerer’s Stone safe. Also, the Headmaster decided to leave the transference of the Stone to Grimm. Instead of implanting the artifact into the Mirror, she instead entered a counterfeit replica, and plans to destroy the original._

_._

_._

It was late afternoon when the Forgiven browsed the school’s library.

The tall windows allowed long rays of orange and yellow to shine through the building’s interior. The lighting struck the bookshelves with a pleasant glow, lending a warm atmosphere to the place.

The smell of parchment and ancient tomes wafted through the air, enticing curious noses with knowledge of its contents. Faint sounds of rhythmic scratching of ink on paper and turning pages echoed through the halls. All the while, Grimm stood awkwardly in one of the aisles wearing, or at least attempting to wear a genuine-looking smile.

“Oi, what’s with that face?“ Liar asked her.

 **Do you need to poop?** Norse wrote and began drawing a poop doodle.

“Gaaaggghhh!!!” Grimm yelled in frustration. “Forget it! I was _trying_ to look friendly!”

**“……..You are failing terribly.”**

“I know, Norse! Fock it! Just call him over,” she hissed, as she put up her hood.

“By your command!” Liar waved his hand to a certain boy reading in the aisle. “HEY! NEVI! Fancy meeting you here! In a library. In Hogwarts. What _are_ the odds?”

Neville jumped at being called out to suddenly and looked in Liar’s direction.

“Liar? Is that you?!”

“Oh, forgot about the enchantment for a moment. Yes, tis I! Surprised, are we?”

“Well—yeah! So the other two must be…”

Grimm and Norse waved at him in turn. Grimm was still hiding her face under her hood, while Norse rushed up to hug him.

As Neville was whisked off the ground, a small voice came from beside them.

“Are they friends of yours, Neville?” asked a frizzy haired girl.

“Oh! Yes, that’s right! This is…”

“Lynus,” Liar lied and bowed gracefully. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, young lady. The tall huggy one is Norris, and the short broody one there is Grimma.”

“Grimma?!” Hermione gasped. The young witch ran to the leader of the Forgiven and stopped right in front of her. She was practically beaming with her smile.

“Ah…” Grimm remembered. “The girl I helped with the Platform. So we meet again.” She dropped her illusion briefly, leaned forward and rustled Hermione’s head fondly.

The group managed to find themselves a private study table far away from the other students. There, Norse and Liar attempted to help Neville with his homework. Hermione immersed herself in an enormous encyclopedia. And Grimm casually ate a sandwich, while reading a book, which from time to time, emitted a dark spirit that threatened to possess her.

“Grimma?” Hermione spoke up, after closing her tome.

“Hrm?”

“You can’t eat in the library. If Madam Pince catches you—“

“She won’t. Lynus confunded her.”

“WHAT?!”

“It’s fine~” Grimm assured her.

Hermione did not feel assured.

“If we didn’t, she’d keep trying to take my sandwich, or kick me out, or complain about how I’m _not supposed to read from the restricted section_ , even though we have Albus’s permission.”

“That book is from the restricted section?!” she squeaked.

“All the best ones are. The fun ones in any case.”

Hermione then went into deep thought about something.

“You’re not allowed to go into the restricted section, if that’s what you’re planning,” Grimm told her, having discerned the girl’s intentions.

“ _That_ is a double standard.”

Grimm thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“So it is. What book would you like to read? If it’s one that won’t try to curse you, I wouldn’t mind fetching it.”

Hermione started contemplating once more. After a moment, she looked to see if anyone was listening. As she confirmed no one was, the girl stared serious eyed at Grimm.

“I need to find a book on Nicholas Flamel,” she whispered.

The moment the name left her lips, all three of the Forgiven dropped what they were doing, and began listening intently. A tense atmosphere developed between them, laced with a faint sense of panic. Norse and Liar could barely keep their poker faces in check. Grimm on the other hand…

“Hahaha! What a clever girl! I knew there was something special about you.” Grimm rubbed Hermione’s frizzy hair again. Then in a straighter tone, she asked, “Now, why would you concern yourself over something like that?”

“You recognize the name?”

“The reason, Granger.”

“It’s research for an essay.”

Grimm and Liar used some quick Legilimency to probe Hermione’s real reason.

“Mhmm… An essay, huh?”

“Yes.”

“And what sort of assignment would require you to pick out a book from the restricted section without permission?”

“Um…! It’s an extra credit sort of thing…!”

Grimm smiled slyly at watching Hermione squirm. Unable to find the smart little witch anything, but adorable. The young woman teased her and pinched her precious cheek a bit.

“Your lying needs work, Granger. I’ll tell you this, you don’t need to go into the restricted section to find Nicholas Flamel.”

“What? No. I’ve checked all the records in the non-restricted area. There’s nothing listed about Nicholas Flamel anywhere in the last century!”

“Apparently, you’re missing _something_.”

“……If you know who he is, couldn’t you simply tell me?”

“I could—but I won’t. It’s better if you figure it out yourself.” Grimm’s teasing smile turned into a caressing one. “Don’t rely on others for an answer. You’re smart enough to find it on your own, I can tell. You’re a different kind of brilliant, Granger.” She tapped her nose, and gave a light chuckle. “It would be criminal to rob this experience from you.”

Hermione seemed to understand something from that and nodded firmly. She didn’t find the answer she was looking for, but Grimm still provided her with a clue. The little witch abruptly stood and began scouring the book shelves again for something she missed.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to encourage her like that?” Liar asked with a hint of caution.

“It’s fine. Even if they discovered the truth, what are they going to do? Somehow get through all the defensive measures the professors set up and steal a fake Stone?”

“…Fair point. They could get into a great deal of trouble, though.”

“The sign of any promising student. Being exposed to a moderate amount of danger is good nourishment for the soul.”

**“Hm…You are quite taken with that girl.”**

“I am.”

 _“Um….What are you all talking about?”_ Neville asked hesitantly.

“Never you mind, Nevsy old boy. Despite what Grimm thinks, we don’t want _you_ anywhere near shouting distance of any trouble.”

“That’s right,” she joined. “It’s different for Granger and her friends. You, we have a promise to keep with your parents.”

Neville looked downcast.

“Alright…” he replied in a small voice, and went back to his paper.

Norse and Liar couldn’t help, but frown at the clear difference in treatment Grimm gave Neville and Hermione. Sure, they were in agreement with what she said about keeping Neville safe. But the blatant favoritism did bother them a bit. It clearly had a discouraging effect on the boy.

As if to alieve the estranged moment, an owl soared overhead and dropped an envelope from above. Grimm deftly snatched the envelope out of the air and flicked her dagger across its spine. Her eyes raced back and forth across the letter. When she finished, the others could sense a shift in her demeanor.

“We need to go,” Grimm motioned to the two, and promptly left her seat.

Norse and Liar were following suit, before Liar turned around for a moment.

“See ya, Nev! Best of luck with your homework!”

Neville wanted to say something back, but while he hesitated, the three had already disappeared.

.

** Part 2 **

.

The Forgiven left Hogwarts and made their way down the road to Hogsmeade. During their trek, they conversed amongst themselves in hushed voices.

“How are we on the students?” Grimm asked.

“I’ve probed every juvenile mind in there. Nothing but worries over grades, Harry Potter gossip, and some rumor about a lucky fox that grants wishes,” Liar answered.

“Heh! Who says McGonogall doesn’t have a sense of humor?”

“No one knows a thing about the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

“Obviously. I don’t know why Albus bothered ordering us to check, but tells us probing the professors’ minds is unnecessary.”

“Bit hypocritical, really.”

“So, how are we on the professors?”

“Only ones I haven’t probed are McGonogall, Snape, and Quirrell. It’s funny. Despite how frail Quirrell may be, the man lives up to his reputation as Defense Against Dark Arts professor.”

“You can skip McGonogall. Focus on Snape. Greaseball has a history with the other side and Voldemort.”

“And what of Quirrell?”

“Lower priority.”

“Alright. It may take some time. The potions master is particularly proficient in Occlumency.”

“It takes what it takes. Albus vouches for him, but Snape’s hiding something, I can feel it. We need to know what that is.”

“Roger dodger,” Lair saluted.

Grimm then turned to Norse.

“How are we on Troll Garden?”

Norse shook her head.

**“Disappeared into the wind. I’ve launched several raids on their strongholds, but found barely anyone of worth. No results from questioning either.”**

“And their known associates?”

Norse flashed a sinister smile.

 **Obliterated.** **Looted. Our coffers grow healthy once more.**

“I’d go as far to say we’re swimming in galleons,” Liar chimed in. “I should mention that our drug venture is doing optimally well. It’s actually becoming more business than Nick and I can handle. Perhaps we should start looking into hiring some interns,” he joked.

“We might have to.”

“I was joking.”

“I wasn’t.” Grimm continued. “It’s something I thought might happen. The point is, we have some money to throw around, right? Drop some galleons into some hands and get me info around Hogsmeade, and start up our information network again in Knockturn Alley. I want to know Troll Garden’s numbers, how they’re organized, what their resources are, and who they’ve got.”

The other two nodded at her orders.

When their briefing ended, the group found themselves in front of Hog’s Head Inn.

They passed through the tavern doors and reactively took in the whole of the establishment. The sun had set for a while now and tired town workers were beginning to file in to drink and complain about their jobs. Littered among them were several persons of the shadier kind.

Although Hog’s Head had its share of questionable patrons, these were a different breed. The three Forgiven sensed the hands on their wands, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice. They were an on edge bunch, who could be nothing else but mercenaries.

Grimm, Liar, and Norse, made note of them and went straight to the bar.

“’Lo, Abe,” Liar greeted.

“Liar. Grimm. Norse,” Aberforth grunted to each in turn. “The usual?”

“Not for me, thanks. I _will_ however, order whatever those kindly gentlemen are having over yonder.” Liar pointed to a trio of mercenaries in the corner.

Aberforth filled three great mugs with some kind of beverage that was halfway sludge and halfway malt beer. Liar dropped some coin and cheerfully took the mugs in his hands.

“I’m off to make friends,” he turned with a business-like smile, and headed off.

Aberforth turned to the remaining two.

“Norse?”

Norse gave the barkeep a wide grin. The old man dropped a large tankard the size of a small barrel in front of her, and filled it with mead. Norse took a huge gulp and went to the nearest drinking game to gather intel. She was surprisingly good at spying, as long as it came with alcohol.

“Grimm?” Aberforth addressed the last Forgiven.

“Black Blood.”

“Hm,” the barkeep nodded.

A smooth, venomous liquid was produced in a tall glass. Grimm took a small sip and slipped him the owl letter she received earlier.

“I’ll be honest. I didn’t expect you to respond so quickly,” said Aberforth.

“We were waiting for exactly this.”

“How are things at the school?”

“Besides the troll attack a couple months back, everything’s fine—almost boringly so.”

“Boring is good. And Albus?”

“You know him.” Grimm took a sip of her of her drink. “The Headmaster is sitting in his ivory tower, being hard to read, playing his cards close to the chest— _annoying_ ,”

“I’ll bet. Always been a high and mighty fool.”

Grimm raised her glass to him.

The Forgiven had met Aberforth a while back, near when they first arrived at Hogwarts. Grimm and the owner of Hog’s Head became unusually fast friends over their mutual dislike of Dumbledore and their mutual paranoia of coming dangers. None of the important details were revealed to Aberforth about the Forgiven, but he knew they fulfilled some sort of role similar to the Order of the Phoenix. Despite the strangeness accompanying the three, the man was grew relatively fond of each of them, and developed a peculiar give and take relationship.

“So, what have you—“

“Hey, pretty lady~♪ You drinkin’ alone? Hm? How com’ yer face iz fuzzy?” a middle aged man interrupted Grimm.

He was just about to take the seat left by Norse when something stopped him cold in his tracks.

Sweat fell from his face and sobered his head. He had a hand on the bar counter, and in between his middle and index finger, was a straight, silver dagger. The blade embedded itself deep into the table’s wood and felt cool to the man’s skin.

His eyes parted wide, staring at Grimm, who didn’t utter a single word. She didn’t even spare him the barest of looks.

In the murderous silence, the man slinked away with his tail between his legs.

“You’re paying for that,” Aberforth eyed the new hole in his counter.

“I’ll fix it. Not like your counter isn’t banged up enough already.”

“It has _character_.”

“You should get better clientele for this place, Abe. Keep letting people like that in here, and I might stab more than just your table.” Grimm started making small frustrated stabs into the table as she spoke.

“Have you had enough to drink already? And stop stabbing my counter.”

“I’m adding more _character_.”

“If I changed the clientele of this place, I’d have to kick you three out. They may be a sleazy bunch, but they aren’t bad customers.”

“Oh, _really_?” Grimm’s stabbing intensified.

“ _Yes_.” He pulled closer to her. “Cause they’re good not just for their money.”

Grimm stopped stabbing the counter.

“So they’re here then,” she said with the glass near her lips.

“You told me to let you know if I heard anything. Word’s traveling around the town. ‘Troll Garden”, they say…”

Grimm turned her head and eyed some of the shadier drinkers the Forgiven noted before.

“That them?”

“Yeah. My regulars confirm as much.”

“I’ll take care of it. Anything else I should know about?”

“More of what I told you the other day. Trolls coming down the mountains. Unfamiliar faces gathering on the outer fringes. And now with the name Troll Garden thrown into the mix…”

“Yeah, things are looking dicey. They haven’t found a way into Hogwarts yet, at least.”

“If they take their time, they won’t have to.”

“The scenic route. Enchantments are good, but spend enough time wandering the Forest with enough people, you’ll eventually map out where Hogwarts is. You think that’s what they’ll resort to?”

“No timetable. Seemingly unlimited manpower and resources at their disposal. Why not?”

 _“Great,”_ she swirled the drink in her glass pensively.

“Keep the students safe, Grimm. Albus isn’t taking this seriously enough. He’s playing some game years down the road. The Ministry’s busy with their own bullshit and the Gringotts theft.”

“I know, Abe. It’s why we’re here,” she said seriously. “Neutralizing threats is what we do.”

As Grimm finished her drink and was getting up to leave, Aberforth grasped her arm.

“There’s one more thing— _a different rumor_.”

“What is it?”

“Something happening in the woods. The say some devilish creature’s stalking the forest.”

“Yeah?”

“People are saying it _feeds on unicorns._ ”

“…..I’ll look into it.”

They both nodded to each other.

Grimm left the bar counter and walked to a drinking mercenary. Under the cover of her cloak, she pointed her wand at him.

_Imperio._

The man calmly put down his mug and followed her outside. One by one, Grimm came back, abducted another target, and took them out of the Inn. With a mixture of speed and distraction provided by Norse and Liar, no one noticed the growing string of disappearances. Eventually, Grimm managed to empty the Hog’s Head of its mercenary population, taking the last one out back.

She removed the Imperius Curse from the guild member of Troll Garden and kicked him into a pit. The man fell clumsily into the hole and landed on something soft.

Under the pale moon light that filtered into the pit, the wizard saw what was under him and screamed in terror. They were the dead bodies of the ones Grimm previously abducted. He looked up in a panic to see the witch’s disturbing visage.

With the moon shining on her back, and the shadows obscuring her face—Grimm looked like a dark specter passing judgment on the man’s soul. Not only her appearance, but the air around her felt cruel and cold.

She pointed her wand down at him.

_Crucio._

Tree roots of pitch black grew from her wand and invaded her victim’s skin. Unearthly pain and anguish infiltrated every cell of his being.

After a few minutes, Grimm probed his memories. His mind was disheveled and broken enough to there were no resistances to her Legilimens. So damaged he was, that she even had to repair parts of his thoughts in order to read them. When the witch reconfirmed the information was the same as what she gathered from the others, Grimm drew back from his memories.

_Avada Kedavra._

A green light briefly illuminated the darkness.

_Reducto._

Grimm reduced all the bodies into dust and buried the hole.

She stared at the unmarked grave for a little while with a dead expression. Something was a little off, she felt. The witch couldn’t put her finger on it, but in the end, chose to ignore any misgivings.

Grimm turned away, and walked back to the Hog’s Head.

The Forgiven had recently found a loophole in the Crucio’s backlash effect. After many experiments, they learned that the rebound effect wasn’t as prominent if they were to take their Animagus forms while they slept. This meant they could use the Crucio curse without much real consequence.

…

At least…

That is what they thought at the time.

 


	30. Fish Bait

 

** Chapter 30 – Fish Bait **

**. **

_Previously on The Forgiven:_

_After visiting Aberforth, the Forgiven are informed that Troll Garden is gathering in Hogsmeade and around the outer fringes of Hogwarts. He also mentions rumors circling about a “dark creature feasting on unicorns”._

_._

_._

The morning sun shone through the room’s drapes and tickled Grimm’s protruding nose. She slept in her fox form last night to curb the rebound effect of the Cruciatus Curse.

Under her blankets, she felt an arm wrap around her whole body. When she looked to see who it belonged to, she found Norse soundly asleep. Branches and leaves littered her blonde hair from last night’s raids.

For the last couple months, the Forgiven scoured Hogsmeade and the nearby mountains for members of Troll Garden. They had successfully managed find some of their numbers; interrogating them extensively before executing them. But whoever was leading the mercenaries was smart. No one person knew the exact locations of the others, save for the guild master.

To make matters worse, from the sparse information the Forgiven _were_ able to gather, they learned that Troll Garden was uniting various Troll tribes around the Forbidden Forest area. It seemed a great army was in the making. Although the Stone was no longer at risk of falling into the wrong hands, the safety of Hogwarts now hung in the balance; despite it being empty of its prize.

Grimm slipped out of Norse’s arms and arched her back as she yawned. She took a few nimble steps and pounced off the bed. Her front right leg stung upon landing. When she looked down, she saw that it bled and was covered in bite marks—signs of last night’s nightmares.

The fox pricked up her nose to catch Liar’s scent. He was in the deep dungeons. Grimm ambled down the tower’s stairs with animalistic agility, reaching her destination in no time at all.

The dungeon door was open a crack and Grimm’s body fit smoothly through. In the room, she saw Liar sitting in a chair, looking pensive. In front of the wizard—not four feet away—was a troll chained by his neck, limbs, and torso.

The creature looked in a daze. Like its mind wasn’t all quite there. This troll was the one, which attacked Hogwarts back in October.

Grimm strode next to Liar.

 _“Morning,”_ she called to him.

“…Morning,” he answered through his thumbnail he was biting on.

_“Got anything out of him today?”_

“Frustratingly, no. For all my talents in maneuvering the human psyche, none of them are proving the slightest bit useful against trolls.”

_“Must be something in the species gap. Legilimens becomes difficult on our Animagus forms too, if we don’t allow the connection. That, or it’s got bogeys for brains. You mind taking a moment to mend my leg?”_

Liar turned and looked at Grimm for the first time. He frowned at the sight of her self-inflicted injury.

“I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I seriously urge you to reconsider your utilization of the Cruciatus Curse. Just because we’ve found a way to lessen its aftereffects, doesn’t give cause to cast it so freely. The nightmares are still excruciating, are they not?”

_“Oh, yes. Nightmares. No. They’re so terrible~ As if they’re not the least of our problems.”_

Liar sighed and pointed his wand at her leg. His lips moved, but he incanted in silence. Grimm felt a warmth spread through her wound, and she shook off the dried flakes of blood. With her leg healed, the witch licked her fur clean.

 _“Have you made progress on reading Snape’s mind?”_ Grimm asked.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I have, actually.”

_“…”_

“…”

_“…Well? Let’s hear it then.”_

“He has no connection whatsoever to Troll Garden, Death Eaters, or Voldemort. The truth of the matter is, the man is doing everything in his power to safeguard Hogwarts….and Harry Potter—as unbelievable as that may seem.”

_“Oh? That’s interesting. Tell me what you found.”_

“Nothing relevant. We need to move on.”

_“That’s not an answer. Report what you found. Why does Albus trust him? How do we know he’s on our side?”_

Liar stared at Grimm, a harsh seriousness flickering in his eyes.

“I won’t answer. All we need to know about Snape is that he presents no threat to the Forgiven’s mission. He is entitled to his privacy, and I won’t intrude on it any more than I already have.” Grimm frowned upon Liar’s disposition for a while, but he remained unperturbed. “It’s not important, Grimm.”

_“It_ **sounds** _important. And you’ve never given two shits about invading someone’s privacy till now. What’s so different about Snape?”_

“Albus trusts him…” he paused. “…And I also trust him. I ask that you please take my word for it, and leave it at that.”

Grimm sighed.

_“…..It has absolutely nothing to do with the current circumstances?”_

“No.”

_“And you’re_ **sure** _he’s on our side?”_

“Without question.”

Grimm thought about pressing further, but thought better of it.

“ _Fine_ ,” she conceded. _“Slimeball can keep his secrets. But if a time comes when I need to know—“_

“I will inform you of everything regarding Snape, and why his allegiance is unquestionable. For now, please let the matter rest.”

_“Alright, Liar. No more questions.”_

“Thank you.”

With the topic of Snape finalized, the two moved on to other things.

 _“Now for the next task at hand…”_ Grimm groaned. _“We’re going to have to release it,”_ she referred to the imprisoned troll.

“Pardon?”

_“If we release it, we should be able to follow it back to its tribe. If we’re lucky, it might even return to whoever was controlling it in the first place, but that’s a longshot.”_

“Hmm…” Liar scratched his chin. “I can suggest no better alternative.”

_“You’ve already dispelled the enchantment that made him attack the school, right?”_

“Yes. I suppose he’s ready to be released at any moment.”

_“Good. Let’s do this while it’s still early in the day. Who knows how long it’ll take him to lug his giant ass through the Forest.”_

.

** Part 2 **

.

It was on the later side of the afternoon, when the troll wandered through the Forbidden Forest. Twilight was passing, and the sun was starting to set over the hills.

The ground quaked with every step of the colossal creature. It lumbered on without any semblance of urgency or quickness. The lethargic pace was beginning to drive those following it mad.

Out of sight and behind the troll, was Grimm trailing in her fox form. Further behind her, was Liar and Norse. The three spent the whole day watching the troll dawdle its way home. They lost count of how many detours it made. For a time, they suspected it didn’t even know _how_ to get home, but after marking its course on the map, it was clear the creature was going in some vague direction.

 _“_[ _Unfocking believable...!_](mailto:Unf@#%24ing%20believable...!) _”_ Grimm cursed. _“How many times is it going to be distracted by a focking butterfly!”_

The sun was now setting completely, and the sky blended from orange and purple to dark blue.

 ** _“We are losing daylight. Should we knock the creature out and try again another day?”_** Norse inquired.

_“I don’t want to go through all this again…”_

_“OH, for the love of—”_

_“What? What is it now?”_

They could feel Liar’s mind cringe.

_“According to the map, our friend is…making a bell curve.”_

_…_

_“He’s circling back?! THE IDIOT’S ACTUALLY LOST?!”_

_“That appears to be the case…”_

_“Sonuva—! Yeah, let’s just knock him out and try again tomorrow. Norse.”_

**_“Leave the deed to me.”_ **

_“Hm? Wait a minute. It’s walking towards something….”_ Grimm paused. “ _Is that a dead unico—!”_

At that moment, the sound of a blistering fast object pierced through the air.

_*Fsst*_

An arrow sailed from afar and found its home in the troll’s neck.

“NNRRRROOOOGGGHHHH….” the troll wailed with a hollowed sound.

Blood leaking from its wound, the creature ripped the arrow out, but only served to make the injury worse. Crimson streams spouted from its neck like a tapped geyser. The troll lumbered back and forth in a sort of clumsy panic before ultimately collapsing—dead in the dirt.

_“Shhhhhhit.”_

Grimm quickly retreated to Norse and Liar, and morphed back into her human form. Together, all three of them drew their wands, ready for combat.

Several arrows flew at them from the shadows of trees.

**_“Protego!”_ **

The projectiles aimed at them splintered and deflected off the light bubble of Norse’s shield spell. While she maintained the guardian field, her two comrades readied their counter attack.

_Lumos Multis Solem!_

Circling the surrounding area, formed small orbs of light that rapidly expanded in a blinding flash. The spell illuminated the attackers, at the same time blinding everyone who wasn’t prepared for it. Besides the group of archers, there was another figure that caught Grimm’s eye, which swiftly made its escape. The witch would have to worry about it later. For now, she had to concentrate on the more immediate threats.

Investing a great amount of her magic, Grimm cast the final chain of her team’s combination.

_Immobolus Multis._

The words seemed to echo and brought an odd sensation with its reverberation. Several bodies in the Forest went rigid and fell over with a thud. The Forgiven waited in the silence for any sign of further attacks.

When they judged the situation to be safe, they moved on their immobilized attackers.

_“Lumos”_

Liar’s glowing orb revealed the full features of those they looked down at. They had the appearances of men and women, but also the lower anatomy of horses.

“Centaurs,” Grimm said with a tone that was mildly surprised, and also mildly annoyed. “You lot just killed our bait. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

She pointed her wand down at one of the Centaurs and undid enough of the curse for him to speak.

“Your kind does not belong in the Forest!!” he yelled.

“Glad we could come to an agreement. We don’t _want_ to be in your bloody Forest! So let’s talk like civilized beings, shall we?”

The Centaur lying on the ground stared daggers at Grimm, but it did nothing to faze her. She only looked on with a dead expression, silently considering the most efficient ways to get what she wanted. For a moment, she entertained the idea of Imperiusing him or resorting to the Cruciatus Curse.

But before she could act on anything, it was Norse who made the first move.

The large witch stepped forth and knelt in front of the Centaur with an ambience of respect.

**“Noble one, we are not your enemies. Your adversaries and the ones we hunt are one and the same, I am sure. We should be helping each other, not fighting. You are the guardians of this Forest. We are the guardians of the School. Surely, our two people can come to terms.”**

The Centaur read into her words and found sincerity in her expression.

“Free my comrades and we may speak,” he answered.

**“Very well.”**

Norse looked back at Grimm and Liar with expectation.

They both shrugged.

“Yeah…Alright.”

“I’d rather not be shot at again, mind you.”

The three began dispelling the enchantment from all the Centaurs. There were six of them in all. One by one, they stood up, steadily and with caution.

 **“What is your name?”** Norse asked the first Centaur they spoke to.

“Firenze,” he answered with pride. “You spoke of our enemies being one and the same, yet our enemies are human.”

“Besides Hagrid and us, no other humans are allowed in the Forest. We also…… _’learned_ ’ from the mercenaries we captured that some of them were attacked by your people. They’re working with the trolls.”

“Yes. Your kin joined forces with the trolls to impose on our territory.”

**“They are not our kin, Centaur Firenze. They want to lead the trolls in an assault against Hogwarts. An assault we intend to stop. Our enemies are allied. Our goals are aligned.”**

“…How do we know we can trust your word?” the Centaur asked.

Grimm scowled.

“Well, we could’ve just killed you if we really wanted—“ _*Ugh!*_

Norse elbowed Grimm in the ribs.

**“What must we do to earn your trust? We would gladly fight alongside you against your Forest’s invaders, if given the opportunity. What say you?”**

“Or we could help you track down the thing that’s killing all the unicorns.”

All the Centaurs, and also Norse and Liar, whipped their attentions towards Grimm.

“What?”

Grimm lifted her finger and pointed to something a few paces away from the fallen troll. There, their gazes fell on the pale corpse of a baby unicorn. It was bled out to the point of being an empty husk.

A small trail of silvery liquid led from its dead body, deeper into the Forest.

_“Shall we go hunting, then?”_

_._

** Part 3 **

.

A few of the Centaurs ran ahead of the party to track the trail of unicorn blood. Following behind were two more Centaurs as back up. Bringing up the rear was the Forgiven who walked alongside Firenze.

“Are you sure, you do not want me to establish Legilimens with you all? The fast communication would benefit you greatly.” Liar suggested.

“We cannot give you a gateway into our minds. Although our people work together for now, our trust is anything but assured,” Firenze replied.

**“We understand. The time to prove our honor will surely come.”**

_“Oi. If they don’t want to talk, that’s fine. In fact, it might work better to our advantage,”_ Grimm contacted through Legilimency.

**_“What do you mean?”_ **

_“I mean, they can be cannon fodder for us. If they knew what we were_ **really** _up against, they may not be so inclined to lead vanguard.”_

_“ **Why? Do you know what hunts the unicorns?”**_

_“We expected the troll to return home, but there was a longshot it might return to the one who was commanding it.”_

**_“The leader of Troll Garden.”_ **

_“And possibly Voldemort himself…”_

All three went silent for a while as they trudged through the Forest.

Liar gulped.

_“I knew we were always going to fight him eventually…but now?”_

**_“So the time has come. Our battle with Voldemort is upon us.”_ **

_“It’s what we’ve trained for. The reason why we were recruited. We kill him here, and there will_ **be** _no Second War,”_ Grimm told them.

 _“If it_ **is** _indeed him,”_ Liar added.

 _“Yeah……I should tell you.”_ Grimm paused. _“I’ve got a feeling it’s him.”_

She felt all their minds twitch.

_“Boss, have I ever mentioned how much I loathe your overly accurate premonitions?”_

**_“A glorious battle awaits us. We should inform Firenze.”_ **

_“What? No. We can observe what kind of condition Voldemort’s in if the Centaurs fight him first. They might even prove a good decoy.”_

_“I concur with Norse. The Centaurs deserve to know who they hunt. It’s Voldemort for heaven’s sake!”_

_“What on earth are you two on about? Name one, actual reason we need to tell them, and give away a perfectly prime advantage.”_

Norse and Liar only stared at Grimm with dumbfound expressions.

_“It’s simply the right thing to do?”_

**_“Their lives could be wasted! Lost for nothing by a lack of information. It would be dishonorable to withhold this.”_ **

_“Wait, you’re actually worried about them? What’s five or six lives if it means taking down Voldemort?! Not to mention we could prevent a War. We can stop the Troll Garden army from marching on Hogwarts! Hundreds, if not thousands could die if we don’t end him here. We need_ **every** _advantage we can get at this moment._

_And you’re worried about making a few sacrifices?!”_

Norse shook her head vigorously and sent a furious look towards Grimm. She then turned to Firenze.

 **“We are certain the one feeding on the unicorns is Voldemort. Please alert your clansmen, Centaur Firenze,”** she wrote before him.

The Centaur froze in his tracks. For a moment, he didn’t seem to understand what Norse just told him. It was a look of complete disbelief. But as quickly as his demeanor changed to panic, it transitioned to deep contemplation.

Firenze gazed up to the stars as if observing something galaxies away. He closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them at random intervals. After a time, he spoke.

“The stars suggest you may be correct, Ms. Norse. I thank you, and shall inform my clansmen,” Firenze nodded and galloped ahead.

When the Centaur was gone, Grimm side glanced at Norse, but the blonde witch refused to meet her stare.

“Norse…I’m looking at the stars too, and they’re not telling me a damn thing about why you just freakin’ did that!!”

**“I do not regret my decision.”**

“Of course, you don’t. You never do. And I wouldn’t mind most of the time, but right now—!!”

“SHHH! Listen!” Liar interrupted them.

All three went quiet. There were no sounds of animals or trees shifting in the wind. It was a deathly silence.

That is until they heard a cry from one of the Centaurs.

_The Forgiven started in an all-out sprint towards the direction of the screams._

.

** Part 4 **

.

The three came upon the clearing where the battle ensued. While Grimm and Liar took cover behind tree trunks, Norse rushed headlong into the fray.

**_“I will take lead!”_ **

_“Killing blows!”_ Grimm called out to her comrades.

In the clearing, there were three dead Centaurs and one critically wounded. Firenze and one standing companion were locked in battle. Their enemies were one hooded figure and a troll, which had several arrows embedded in its flesh.

The three immediately recognized the dark cloaked person as the greater threat, and took aim with their wands.

 ** _“””Avada Kedavra!!”””_** Grimm, Liar, and Norse invoked.

Staining emerald light flashed like spears stabbing through the air. Before the Killing Curses could meet their mark, the dark shade conjured enough magic to move the troll into the spells’ paths.

The large creature went limp upon contact and fell sideways, while the shadow jumped at Firenze. A fatal blow was descending upon the Centaur, but was interrupted by Norse ramming into the shade with her shoulder. The two tumbled and wrestled on the ground.

“NORSE!” Grimm shouted. “Liar, the troll!”

“On it!”

Judging Norse and the shade to be too close to use spells, Grimm morphed into her fox form and dashed at the two. When the shadow figure pinned Norse below it, Grimm bit hard into its shoulder like a rabid beast.

The shade leapt off Norse and shed the part of its cloak Grimm bit into. A wand was pulled by the dark assailant and aimed at the fox. Green blight flared from its end.

_Inferius!_

Liar finished reanimating the troll’s dead body and moved it in time to block the Killing Curse. After receiving the green blast, the corpse made way.

Grimm changed back from her fox form. She and Norse lifted their wands together and aimed right as the path cleared.

**_Avada Kedavra!!_ **

_Crucio!!_

The two Unforgivable Curses seemed to hit a part of the shade’s body, which shed upon contact.

Recognizing the clear disadvantage, the dark figure began emitting a cloud of black smoke—attempting to vanish, like a threatened octopus. Grimm and Norse incanted spells to interrupt its escape, but their wands shattered, unable to bear their magic any longer.

 _“Avada Kedavra!”_ Liar casted, but the jagged jade beam caught nothing but smoke.

When the black mist settled, they saw the shade had escaped. The battle ended.

A sullen silence fell on all of them.

Firenze and his two surviving companions mourned over their dead. Liar healed the Centaur who was injured. Norse laid a comforting hand on Firenze’s shoulder, telling him his clansmen fought honorably and died noble deaths.

Grimm stood alone, away from the others. She picked up a detached part of the shade and watched it dissolve into the air, like ash in the wind.

The witch cursed in frustration.

“DAMN IT!!”

…

……

_We failed._


	31. Five Finger Fillet

** **

** Chapter 31 – Five Finger Fillet **

.

_Previously on The Forgiven:_

_While following the Troll that attacked Hogwarts back to its master, the group was ambushed by a group of Centaurs. One of them, a certain Centaur named Firenze._

_After Norse was able to convince them they were not enemies, the two groups forged a temporary alliance to hunt down the creature preying on unicorns. Upon meeting the one they assumed to be Voldemort, a chaotic battle ensued. In the end, three Centaurs lost their lives, and the leader of Troll Garden escaped._

_The Forgiven experienced their first, true taste of failure._

_._

_._

Shadows thick as cloth blanketed the Forbidden Forest’s outer fringe. On the canyon side, a trail of torchlights could be seen marching its way towards the trees. There were twenty figures numbering the party; a mix of magi and trolls.

When they reached a certain distance from the Forest’s tree line, arrows flew out in angry droves. Like flittering birds, the projectiles soared forth, looking to skewer their marks.

In response to the attack, many of the mercenaries ducked behind trolls. The large creatures were outfitted with cheap, but effective armor. Incoming arrows ricocheted harmlessly off or failed to pierce decent depth.  When the volley passed, the witches and wizards moved from their cover and took aim.

A chorus of yells erupted, followed by various colors of elemental light. They streamed into the Forest. Thunder clouds cracked within the shadows. Cries of pain could be heard as spells met their mark. The mercenaries could hear the Centaurs’ hooves stomping the ground in retreat. Drunk on their victory, the magi gave chase, ushering the trolls forward.

**_“””Avada Kedavra.”””_ **

Three green trails of crooked blight struck a troll each.

The creatures’ souls extinguished from their bodies upon contact with the Killing Curses. As the lifeless corpses fell to the ground, something peculiar happened. Their clubs punched into the dirt and supported their weight. The trolls stood with an eerie posture and began swinging their weapons against their comrades. The newly reanimated Inferi caught many of their brethren square in the head, inducing instant death.

Suddenly, the mercenaries were in a complete panic. Seeing them without their meat shields, the Centaurs flanked to the group’s wings to blanket them with arrows.

Trolls died by Inferi troll hands. Witches and wizards drowned in hails of wooden shafts. It was a complete turnaround from then on. When the battle was over, only one mercenary managed to survive.

The witch was barely holding on. She had lost her wand in the battle. Her legs were riddled with arrows, rendering her unable to walk. She was trying so desperately to crawl to safety.

But didn’t get very far.

A firm foot pressed on her back, and before the woman could turn around or utter a word, magic coursed through her system.

 _“Crucio,”_ Grimm whispered with a bite.

Her victim felt shards of glass sprout from her insides. It cut her stomach from the inside out, pricking every surface of her skull, under her skin. Whenever she moved, whenever she tried to form a thought, the curse’s effect magnified a hundred fold. It hurt to twitch from the pain. It hurt to breathe and expand her lungs. She felt shards puncture her most sensitive areas.

“GRIMM!!” Liar yelled, coming over.

“What?”

**“She has had enough!”**

“I don’t know about that…”

Norse moved by Grimm’s side and grabbed her wrist. For a moment, they both shared an intense glare.

“Relax, you two. Just softening her up,” said Grimm.

She ended the Cruciatus Curse, and was readying to invade the mercenary’s mind.

“I’ll do it,” Liar stepped in.

The wizard knelt beside the now weeping wreck of a woman and began probing her mind for information. While Liar busied himself with his task, Firenze came over and bowed before them. Norse returned the gesture, but Grimm did not.

“We have won the battle. Twenty strong fell tonight. I thank you on behalf of our clan for your assistance.”

**“The honor is ours, Firenze.”**

“Unfortunately, I have grave news, as well.”

“Let me guess, three or four more groups like this one just made it into the Forest, while we were busy here,” Grimm cut in.

“…Yes. How did you know?”

“The stars told me.”

“ _Really?”_ Firenze asked, looking bewildered.

“Guess sarcasm doesn’t carry very well with Centaurs. Sorry, that was racist. I know because that’s what I would’ve done.”

“Hm…I see. Yes. It is exactly as you have said. Our scouts report a number of similar groups moving all across the canyons.”

 _“Which confirms more or less what **she** had in her recollections.”_ Liar said, while standing up. “Or at least, whatever was _left_ of her recollections,” he added with a slight edge to Grimm.

**“We were outmaneuvered!”**

“More accurately, we were under resourced. We _needed_ the other clans tonight, Firenze. Now, I’m not one to complain about help, but we somehow expected….more of you.”

**“Is there still no word from them?”**

Firenze sadly shook his head. “Without any clear signs from the skies or direct invasions into their territories, the other clans continue to remain passive. In truth, many of my _own_ clansmen begin to think we should take similar attitudes towards he-who-must-not-be-named.”

 **“”What?!””** Norse and Liar left their jaws hanging in shock.

“I fear that soon, I will no longer be able to persuade them to fight.”

The Centaur’s last words weighed heavy on their minds. Norse, Liar, and Firenze looked at their wit’s end.

In the wake of their depression, they heard crunching steps moving away. The three of them turned, and saw Grimm heading towards her broom.

**“Grimm? Where are you going? We must discuss strategy.”**

“What strategy?” The blue haired witch scowled and eyed them all with scorn. “We’re _clearly_ fighting a losing battle. Winning these little skirmishes does shite! We can stay here and try to hunt down the other groups and keep losing ground, cause more are going to come anyway—Or!” She picked up her broom and started floating into the air on it. “…I can go get myself a drink.”

_And with that, the witch flew into the night sky, leaving behind her dejected comrades._

.

** Part 2 **

.

The Forgiven didn’t sleep upon returning to Hogwarts. They were too worried about the impending armies of Troll Garden to sleep.

House Elves delivered fresh cups of coffee to the Forgiven’s living quarters. Liar and Norse sat together in the common room of their tower. Grimm had shut herself up on the top floor, which used to be another astronomy room; staying there ever since they returned from the battle.

Liar furiously scratched out a part of the map that lay on their study table.

“Not there. We checked there,” he muttered.

**“They most likely hide northward where the Forest is wider.”**

“I can understand their inclination to move from the Eastern front, but why not migrate South? The Forest is densest there, making it ideal for masking an army.”

**“……They must have the Centaur territories charted! They are intentionally moving to the north where the clans have a lesser presence!”**

“Clever sods. That must be what Firenze mentioned earlier. Out of sight and out of mind—the clans won’t engage if their lands are avoided.” Liar took another angry sip of his coffee and stopped himself. He eyed the mug with a rather concerned look. “How many of these have I had?”

Norse shrugged her shoulders, looking at her own cup.

“Damned House Elves keep refilling my mug when I’m not looking! I don’t have any blasted idea how much caffeine I’ve consumed. Feels like I’m going mad.” Liar took another sip regardless. “Ah, but they’re around aren’t they?” He put his hand to his mouth, like he was yodeling. “Just kidding. Don’t take it personally. I love you lot.”

Norse gave a silent chuckle.

 _*Sigh*_ “I think I better check on Grimm, see how she’s faring.”

Norse nodded gravely.

“Unless… _You_ would like to—“

She shook her head, and turned back to the maps.

It seemed some of Norse’s resentment towards Grimm yet still lingered. Liar expelled another tired sigh before ascending the stairs of the tower. He wished the two would get along again. Their friendship had been testy as of late, and only seemed to be growing worse with the coming days.

It all started when they failed to kill Voldemort. While Grimm was angry at Norse for preventing the Centaurs from being used as cannon fodder, she was mostly angry with herself for failing the mission. They were not “defeated” per se, but it made little difference to her.

Their true purpose as the Forgiven was to ultimately eliminate Voldemort, but the enemy managed to slip through their grasp. Grimm took the loss harder than anyone and it showed in her mood.

The witch grew increasingly dark with each passing day. The stress was accumulating. She was ill-tempered and hostile all the time. The leader also developed a habit of using the Cruciatus Curse to vent her frustrations on the Troll Garden mercenaries, who had the misfortune of coming across her.

Liar reached the top of the tower and stood before the door to the old astronomy room. From there, he could hear an incessant hammering sound, like a woodpecker repeatedly pecking on a large tree.

_“Tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk*_

A bit concerned, the young man made a hurried knock. The woodpecker sound ceased, followed by a brief moment of silence.

“Come in,” a voice called from inside.

Liar entered the old astronomy room and heard wood stabbing racket continue again. The wizard finally saw the cause of the noise and made a deep frown.

Sitting at her own study table full of charts, was Grimm stabbing her dagger rapidly between her fingers. Numerous grooves in the wood could be seen from her game of Five Fingers Filet. Upon closer inspection, Liar could see freshly healed stab wounds all over the witch’s hand.

_*Tuk tuk tuk tuk tuk*_

_*Shikt*_

The large knife cut into Grimm’s pinky, severing it at the middle joint. The decapitated digit rolled off the table and bounced on the floor, joining a stockpile of varying copies. Without so much as a wince, Grimm took a swig of the healing potion on the table, which caused her bloody nub to regenerate anew.

She picked up one of the many cut fingers off the ground and offered it to Liar.

“Want one? You could glue it on your nub.”

When the wizard offered no response, she flicked the thing across the room. And then returned to the game again, back and forth across her finger gaps.

_*Tuk tuk tuk*_

Liar couldn’t believe his eyes. “Are you drunk?”

“Hah!” she gave a sarcastic cackle. “That’s the sad part, Liar…” She looked at him with a defeated look. “I’m completely sober. Alcohol doesn’t have the same effect it usually has, these days…”

Liar eyed the full glass of what was probably Black Blood, sitting next to the healing potion.

 _“Damn House Elves,”_ he cursed under his breath. “I understand you have a developing fascination with knives, but eviscerating yourself with them may be taking it a tad too far.”

“It helps me think.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

Grimm ignored him.

“Boss…”

“…”

_*Tuk tuk tuk tuk*_

“Grimm!”

Liar put his hand over hers, between her hand and the dagger. The blade stopped and slightly cut into his skin.

“Idiot. Don’t do that,” Grimm muttered.

“I could return those same words to you.”

“Did you find something, or did you just stop by to be an annoyance?”

“First, I insist you cease carving hot links out of yourself.”

“…Done.” Grimm sheathed her dagger and put on a business-like persona. “Well? What do you have for me?”

“Norse and I have found nothing.”

“Grrr…”

“If only we could find some way of engaging Voldemort again.”

“He’s not feeding as much—especially lately. Should be getting hungry.”

“Voldemort also grows cautious of the Centaurs. Choosing to hunt unicorns away from their territories makes sense. Only Firenze ventures outside his clan’s stomping grounds.”

“There _has_ to be a way to lure the bastard out. What if we tempt him with the Stone? Would he immediately assume it was a fake?”

“Obviously.”

“Yes. That was a _ghastly_ idea. My head’s a mess…” Grimm began massaging her temples.

Liar stared at her for a few moments, weighing his next words carefully.

“You and Norse should speak.”

“…We’re fine.”

“You know both of us are worried—“

“Albus is here.”

They both heard the tower doors open downstairs.

“As if I didn’t have enough of a headache.” Grimm stood. “What were you saying?”

 _*Sigh*_ “Nothing. Nothing that cannot wait till later.”

As Liar followed his leader, his head filled with growing worries.

_I cannot fix this…_

_The only thing I can do is support them both. They have to work it out themselves._

_…_

_I just hope they do it soon._

.

** Part 3 **

**. **

Liar and Grimm descended the stairs to find Dumbledore chatting with Norse. At the sight of the two, the Headmaster rose from his seat.

“The situation surrounding Troll Garden goes poorly, it seems…”

“That’s an understatement. I believe the accurate description is: we’re proper focked,” Grimm cursed, while crossing her arms. “Even if, by some miracle, we _found_ the main army—I doubt we have the time or the manpower to neutralize it!”

**“Another demerit stacked against us. For all our skill and ability, our group can be defeated with ease if faced with outstanding forces.”**

“The one weakness of the Forgiven…Numbers. It might be time to evacuate the school and call the Ministry. If you need someone to corroborate the authenticity of the army, we can pick up one of the mercenaries.”

“Hmm…” Dumbledore caressed his beard. “Have we exhausted every measure afforded us?”

Grimm paused for a moment, and then answered, “…I think so, Albus. And I don’t say that lightly. We can prepare, but a massive battle looks inevitable. Our highest concern is the students’ safety. Evacuate the school, Headmaster.”

“I see. Then I shall make the arrangements in the morning and speak to Fudge. Please capture three corroborators for good measure.”

“Understood.”

All three Forgiven nodded.

Dumbledore let a tired breath escape him. “Tonight has been a most unfortunate night of ill news indeed…”

“Hm? Did something else happen?” Liar asked.

“Oh, no. Nothing compared to the gravity of our current peril. Just a number of students found out of bed afterhours. Minerva deducted fifty points for each offender, as well as administer detentions.”

“Fifty each?!” Grimm gasped.

“Did I ever mention how incredulously silly your school’s point system is?” Liar commented.

“Right. I mean, right. I don’t care……Sooo who—“

“Hm,” the Headmaster smiled. “It was Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Longbottom.”

 ** _“”“Neville?!”””_** Grimm, Liar, and Norse, spat with shock.

“Of course, it hardly matters now that Hogwarts must be evacuated.”

“Didn’t know Neville had it in him,” Liar said with an impressed tone.

**“I am oddly proud of him.”**

“Augusta is probably going to throw a fit. McGonogall was heartbroken, I bet. Gryffindor hasn’t won the House Cup in how many years? Right when they had a massive lead they lose fifty points each for Neville, Granger, and Pott—…”

Grimm went silent.

…

 **“It’s…one hundred fifty total,”** Norse wrote out the math.

“I know what three times fifty is, Norse! Shut it a moment!” Grimm exclaimed and started picking at her lip scar. “Potter…Potter…Potter…”

She turned to Dumbledore with a dangerous look.

…

_“How likely is it that Voldemort will come out, if we dangle Harry Potter in front of him?”_

 


	32. Cruel and Unusual

** Chapter 32 – Cruel and Unusual **

.

_Previously on The Forgiven:_

_Troll Garden’s armies have entered the Forbidden Forest, despite the Forgiven and Firenze’s best efforts. With an impending attack on Hogwarts close at hand and the recent failure of killing Voldemort still fresh in their minds; Grimm, Norse, and Liar’s morales sink to an all-time low. Especially for the Forgiven’s leader, whose mood turns for the worse as time goes on._

_In desperate attempts to overturn the situation, Grimm suggests using Harry Potter as bait to lure Voldemort out of hiding._

_._

_._

** Part 1 **

.

“You want to use Harry Potter to hook Voldemort?! Are you mad?!” Liar exclaimed.

Grimm ignored him. The only one she was paying attention to at the moment, was Dumbledore.

In the tower’s common room, each of the Forgiven stared at the Forgiver. The wizened old Headmaster shut his eyes, pondering deeply. He breathed through his nose, slow and methodical.

When he opened his eyes, he spoke, “You are suggesting sending Harry Potter into the Forbidden Forest to serve his detention.”

“That’s right,” Grimm affirmed.

“That’s idiotic,” Liar noted.

“I don’t think it’s too farfetched. Albus has always been a bit of a loon. Wouldn’t be too far off his reputation to send kids into the Forbidden Forest to serve as detention.”

“NOT what I was getting at! We are putting the child—who if you’ve all forgotten, was almost killed by Voldemort and had his parents killed by him—right in front of the jaws of the very same man!”

“Who knows. Maybe he can bring about another miracle. ‘The Boy Who Lived…Again’” Grimm joked.

“This is insane. And _not_ your usual, good kind of insane that I like so much. This is just plain mental.”

“Shit on my idea all you like. But do you have a better one?”

**“You require _more_ sacrifices to our cause.”**

They all turned to Norse, and saw the witch was fuming.

“This about the Centaurs? I thought we were over this.”

“Enough, you two!” Liar moved between them, sensing the coming fight. He then looked to Dumbledore. “And you. Surely, you cannot possibly be considering—“

“You understand, if I send Mr. Potter into the Forest, I must also send the others to the same fate. Mr. Longbottom included,” Dumbledore said to Grimm.

“What?! No, we _absolutely_ CANNOT go through with this!”

**“We made a promise to keep Neville safe!”**

“………I know,” Grimm answered, speaking only to Dumbledore.

“Hey! Both of you!!” Liar shouted.

“You are absolutely sure?” the Headmaster carried on.

“Authorize the detention, Albus. Have Hagrid take them into the Forest to investigate a creature killing the unicorns. Make sure to send them Eastward _into_ Centaur territory.”

**“GRIMM!!”**

“Very well.”

The Headmaster’s eyes were devoid of their usual twinkle. Instead, they looked like dark pools of black that devoured all light in the room.

As the plan was decided upon, Norse shoved past Liar and pulled Grimm up by her collar. One of her fists drew back, balled with cracking knuckles.

“Before you leave, Albus. Give a Forgiver’s order to make sure Liar and Norse follow my every command on this mission. I don’t need disobedience to screw things up like last time,” said Grimm coolly.

Dumbledore whispered something quick and inaudible to the ear. When he finished, Norse was unable to take any further action against Grimm.

“I believe that shall suffice.” The old wizard then departed the common room, leaving the Forgiven to their own devices.

While Norse could not hit Grimm, she continued to glare menacingly at her leader.

**“You may as well have Imperiused me…! But you couldn’t even do it yourself. I’d never known you were such a coward…!”**

Norse’s teeth gnawed, as she seethed with rage. In the face of her teammate’s ire, Grimm remained emotionless.

Only speaking with a distant voice,

_“Make ready to leave. We’re going to see Firenze.”_

.

** Part 2 **

.

It was early in the morning by the time the Forgiven left to meet Firenze. Students could be heard shuffling through the halls, making their way to their first day’s classes. Gossip and murmurs of confusion accompanied the hustle and bustle, as the students wondered how Gryffindor had lost so many points in a single night.

The problem looked so paltry to the Forgiven. As they passed stealthily through the school, Norse could hardly peel her eyes from the students. Especially when she caught sight of Neville, Harry, and Hermione.

A single sentence occupying her thoughts,

_We may be sending these children to their deaths soon._

The large witch flared with anger again. Her grudge directed to the small back of Grimm, who walked on without a shred of guilt or afterthought. Norse considered confronting her again, but Albus’s authority as Forgiver put a strain on her for simply conjuring the idea.

The three flew off from an area out of sight and made their way into the Forbidden Forest. They glided through the skies for an hour before landing a good distance away from the Centaur colony. To let Firenze aware of their presence, as well as a sign of sincerity, the Forgiven removed their masks to speak with him.

For the next few minutes, Grimm explained the plan they were putting into action the day after. Firenze listened to every word, his expression turned glum at certain iterations. Liar donned a mask of indifference, trying to show neither disproval nor support. Norse simply looked away the whole time, not sure what to do.

“So we’ll need some Centaurs monitoring Hagrid and the kids as soon as they enter the Forest. I don’t care what it takes, or if I have to convince them myself, they need to be there this time,” Grimm urged.

“Mars begins to shine brighter. I believe I can find us the help we need,” Firenze calmly replied.

“Huh? Why was that so easy? Your clansmen were practically rolling over for them, last we heard. Even when they _were_ in your territory. Suddenly, they’re willing to put up a fight?”

“The light of Mars will be significantly red on the night you have planned,” he said, while peering into the sky.

Grimm thought for a moment.

“Hey, Firenze? What exactly would the sky have to look like to – I don’t know—tell all the Centaurs that Voldemort and his guild were coming to kill them all and burn their forest to the ground?”

Firenze seemed passive on the surface, but there carried a sharp edge in the air around him.

“What are you planni—“

_“Obliviate.”_

**“”Grimm!””** Norse and Liar yelled.

“Sorry, let my sarcasm get the better of me. Good thing that was recent and Centaurs are so damn ADD. Sorry, racist.”

“My apologies. What were you asking of me?” Firenze shook his head with a puzzled look.

“Ah, yes. I wanted to learn more about your Divinations. If I was to be forewarned by…. _the universe_ —about some large oncoming threat, what would I look for?”

“Hm...The messages are not always so clear and may remain ambiguous. Humans especially find difficulty in reading the cosmos. But one of the greater signs the tumultuous aura of Mars, the sign of Ares, Harbinger of War.”

“I see. _Very interesting_. Thank you for the Divination lesson, Firenze,” Grimm bowed.

“You are welcome, Ms. Grimm. Not many of your kind show genuine interest in our ways.”

“Yeah. Can’t fathom why. Well, we’d better get back and make preparations. I’m sure you need to do the same. Bring your best people, Firenze. We’re taking Voldemort down this time. It might be our _last_ chance to stop Troll Garden with as little bloodshed as possible.”

Firenze nodded to her, and then turned to her two companions. “Norse. Liar. You two seem… distressed.”

“Oh, them? They’re just a bit under the weather,” Grimm answered for them.

“Is that so?”

While the Centaur’s eyes still wandered about the two, Norse approached him.

**“Think nothing of it, Centaur Firenze. We only worry for the children used in this plan. I ask that your people watch over them closely.”**

“Hm. Some of my clansmen may not be so inclined to help humans, but…” He smiled and put his fist to his heart. “ _I, myself,_ vow to see to it that no harm comes to the youths. Upon my honor and my life, I swear this.”

Norse returned the smile.

**“My eternal gratitude…Friend Firenze.”**

The end of her sentence held special meaning for them, as the words hovered in the Centaur’s view.

“Friend Norse,” he answered with the same courtesy.

It was a code of conduct rarely seen in present times. A mark of old chivalry from days long past. The simple word, “friend” didn’t accurately describe it. The two pledged a connection, a _fealty_ to one another by something they held sacred.

It was this friendship that would bring Firenze to Hogwarts one day, and the reason for his kindness towards humans.

.

** Part 3 **

.

After their meeting, the Forgiven bade goodbye to Firenze and walked a good distance away from the colony.

“I do believe I’ve found a way to combat Voldemort’s massive army,” Grimm turned to Liar and Norse with a snide grin.

Both of them hesitated to reply.

 **“…What is it?”** Norse asked.

“Come on, Norse. _Mars._ It’s bright!... _apparently_.  We create the same thing, add a few special effects when Troll Garden attacks—maybe make it look extra wrathy— and Firenze can convince the Centaurs to fight!”

Norse made no response.

“Liar, back me up on this,” Grimm deferred to the wizard.

“I suppose it _would_ force them into action. The Centaurs take their astrological coincidences very seriously, I agree, but how would you arrange such a thing? Yes. You’re good—oh, glorious leader of ours—but even you can’t change the stars and planets.”

“Can’t I?”

Liar’s eye twitched.

“Hogwarts has an enchanted sky in the great hall. You’ve mimicked the sky for our Underground Base to a lesser degree. Are you telling me you can’t mix and match to create a fake Mars above the Forbidden Forest that reads, ‘Attack Troll Garden, stupid horse people!’?….Was that racist? It was. I really have to stop that.”

A tense hush fell over them all.

“You want me to _gaslight_ the Centaurs……That’s unethical even by my shoddy standards. Also, I wouldn’t know how to make Mars look like,” Liar answered.

“We might have to consider kidnapping a Centaur and making them tell us how to fake the signs.”

“One unethical choice after another.”

“Relax, Liar. If we take Voldemort out early, it might not even come to that. But better to have it ready, in any case.”

**“I do not approve of this. Manipulating one’s beliefs? Interrogating our own allies? This is unacceptable.”**

“Means to an end, Norse. I understand if you both don’t agree, I really do. But this _needs_ to be done. I’ll take responsibility for everything.”

**“That does _NOT_ absolve my repulsion.”**

“Neither I, but I admit I see no alternative….Are you sure about this, Grimm? We may need the Centaurs again one day, and if they learn of what we’ve done, they will never trust us again,” Liar cautioned.

“……I’ve weighed the risks. Do it. If anyone needs to be blamed, it’s on me,” Grimm replied without hesitation.

 _*Sigh*_ “I suppose I should get to work on the enchantment. Maybe consult Flamel, back at home. Interrogating a Centaur shouldn’t be necessary.”

“Thank you, Liar.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Don’t. I don’t feel good about this. And you are NOT welcome.”

Liar walked away, attempting to hide his disdain. When Grimm was about to follow, Norse grabbed her by the shoulder.

**“Liar, return ahead of us. I must have words with Grimm.”**

For a moment, the wizard looked likely to refuse. But his feelings conflicted when he met Norse’s gaze. Rather than intense, it appeared more like she was pleading with him. Asking him to trust her.

“Alright. I get it. Don’t—“ Liar stopped himself. “Nothing. Take care.”

The young man mounted his broom and soared out of the trees a second later, leaving Norse and Grimm to themselves.

A few moments passed before one of them spoke.

“So, I suppose this was a long time coming. Let’s duel and forgive each other right quick, shall we?” Grimm flashed a smile.

**“This is not what this is.”**

“Oh? And what is this then? The Centaurs? Getting Albus to make a Forgiver’s order? I wasn’t thinking straight. I’ll get him to undo it when we get back, okay?”

**“I cannot stand by, while you continue to commit these heinous actions.”**

Grimm frowned at her.

“Since when have you had a problem with the way I’ve run things?”

**“Ever since we’ve begun deceiving and bringing harm to our allies and the lives of innocents!”**

“……You’re talking about putting Neville in the crossfire.”

**“And Potter. And Hermione, who you are so fond of. AND manipulating the Centaurs!!”**

“You don’t think I’ve considered that? Their lives are on me, I get it. It’s my responsibility!”

 **“I KNOW YOU DO! _THAT_** **is what concerns me the most!!”**

“…..What the hell are you on about now?”

**“You sacrifice their lives without batting an eye, sister. You speak of bearing the consequences of such actions, but if you do not care, then what consequences do you bear? Liar and I have seen the way you _look_ at everyone— _treat them._ We barely see a difference between ally or foe alike! But the two of us have been too afraid to say anything.”**

Grimm was noticeably shaken. Norse’s words struck a cord and it snapped something in her.

“ _Afraid?!_ Afraid of me?!”

“ **Of you! Yes!!”** Norse locked eyes with her. **“Do not misunderstand. Liar and I know you would never harm us. You would see the world burn, before letting harm come to us.”**

“So why—“

**“But you care _nothing_ of others! You would sacrifice the world to protect us—to see our mission completed— but it is the _world_ you are charged with _protecting_! **

**We are the Forgiven.**

**Not simply because we are permitted use of the Unforgivable Curses, or granted asylum when our work is done. It is because for all the moral grey we may commit, we bear the damage and burdens ourselves, and only to ourselves…..**

**We are the ones sacrificed for the greater good, not others. We give so others do not have to. You have forgotten this,”** Norse said, while shaking Grimm. She wasn’t sure if she was getting through to her, but she had to try.

**“We are afraid of what you are becoming, sister. We fear we do not know you anymore.”**

**…**

And for the first time in perhaps a very long while, Grimm had no answer to counter with. Norse hit on something dead center, and she felt an emotion she had not experienced since she Obliviated her mother’s memories.

It was shame.

And suddenly, she was a child again. Making the same mistakes. Cold hearted, calculated decisions she _thought_ were right at the time, but would suffer so much for later on.

Grimm shut her eyes and breathed out, sitting with the weight of new understanding.

When she opened her mouth, the words caught in her throat. A sudden pang pierced her temples and her thoughts obscured. Grimm clutched her head for a moment.

**“Grimm?”**

Norse approached, but she held a hand out to stop her.

Grimm blinked a few times. And as quickly as they pain came, so too did it recede. The witch felt her blood chill as she calmed down.

“I have to do it, Norse……I don’t care if I break because of it. There _really_ is no other way with the Centaurs. As it stands, Troll Garden will attack Hogwarts and children will die. I don’t even know if getting rid of Voldemort will stop them either. It may sound like just another excuse but….Am I wrong, Norse? It’s a shite answer, but it’s the only one I can come up with…How else am I supposed to win this?”

Norse offered no response.

“I’m sorry. But this is the way it has to be.”

The large witch looked down at her feet. She wanted to say something, something more, but words failed her. Norse knew she didn’t reach Grimm to the extent she was hoping. She could only walk away in defeat. To her, this was worse than letting Voldemort escape, worse than anything.

“Norse! I really am sorry!” Grimm called out after her.

But the blonde witch only continued walking without looking back.

Grimm was left alone with her thoughts.

_Do I really feel bad about it? Was it just lip service?_

_If anything, I only regret disappointing Norse._

_Do I truly feel guilty?_

_…_

_Something’s wrong…._

_…._

_Was I always this cruel?_

_…_

_…_

_Something is wrong. Something’s wrong with me._

_I don’t remember being like this. Since when have I felt this way?_

_…_

_What’s happening to me?_

_…_

_…_

_I feel cold._

 

 

 

 

****

 


	33. She Hates Happy Memories

** Chapter 33 – She Hates Happy Memories **

.

_Previously on The Forgiven:_

_Norse and Grimm’s estrangement come to a head when the leader’s methods of manipulating the Centaurs and endangering innocent lives finds her allies questioning their friendship. Meanwhile, the plan is set to use Harry Potter as bait to draw out Voldemort._

_._

_._

It was late in the morning when Grimm woke from her sleep.

Her fox form wrestled with the ocean of blankets, in the bed that was too large for her small body. Eventually finding the edge, she hopped down, only to notice her leg was bleeding. Looking back, she could see the white sheets were stained in crimson.

_What the—? I didn’t even use the Cruciatus Curse yesterday._

_Lingering effects, maybe?_

Grimm reverted back to her human form and touched the bite shaped marks around her arm. She snatched up her wand from under her pillow and waved it over the gashes. The bleeding stopped and the skin restored to a certain extent.

_Not as good as Liar’s usual work, but it’ll have to do. I’m not exactly his favorite person at the moment._

After changing into her cloak and putting on her mask, Grimm left her room. But just as she closed the door, she remembered she was supposed to take something with her.

When she opened the door again, the mess of bed sheets and other room clutter were completely organized. The place was in tip-top order, readily livable once more.

 _“House-elves,”_ Grimm muttered.

The witch opened her suitcase and withdrew a certain picture and pocketed it.

Grimm made her way downstairs and found Liar and Norse missing. No matter where they were, she was sure they would turn up before night came. The two were angry with her, but they wouldn’t ignore the mission planned for tonight.

After picking up some food from the kitchens, she steered her way towards the front of Dumbledore’s office.

“Caramel Cobwebs.”

The gargoyle guarding the Headmaster’s door shifted to let the witch through.

“Grimm. I trust everything goes according to plan?”

“Firenze says he’ll bring his clansmen with us.” The witch plopped into one of the guest chairs facing Dumbledore’s desk, where the Headmaster sat. “Mapped a route for Hagrid to take the kids. Prepared as much as possible for everything that could go wrong, _to_ go wrong. At least, as much as I could.”

“Where are Norse and Liar?”

“Around.”

Dumbledore paused to give her a questioning look. “I _have_ compelled them to heed your every order.”

“No longer needed. It’s not like they’re insubordinate, just— _unhappy_.”

“And you believe they will not disobey direct orders, if perhaps, you ordered them to strike down Voldemort rather than save Neville Longbottom? Should the situation ever arise, of course.”

“Of course…” Grimm squinted.

“Hm, I see. Well, just as precaution, I will leave the Forgiver’s order intact until tonight’s operation is complete.”

“Fine.”

“Is there any other matter you would like to discuss?”

“Any idea how to catch a shade, who repeatedly sheds his body every time we wound him?”

“Ah, I remember your report on the matter. I’ve developed a number of hypotheses regarding the anomaly.”

“All ears, Albus.”

“I have a mind that the ability is most likely a result of Voldemort’s diminishing condition. His soul is weakening and his body, fracturing. And, although the unicorn blood is sustaining him, it is also accelerating the degradation process caused by the spiritual toll it takes.”

“So, he’s using it to his advantage. Makes sense.”

“Normally impossible under any other circumstance.”

“Explains how he took a Killing Curse and walked it off. Wouldn’t something like that be mind numbingly painful?”

“Perhaps Voldemort is accustomed to quartering off pieces of his soul.”

“There’s a happy thought.” Grimm pulled out of one of her knives and played with its edge. “So our only option is to keep carving away at him until nothing is left of his soul? I’ll be honest, Albus. I was looking forward to some _actual_ advice.”

“Alas, I have failed to find a viable method to accompany the theory.”

The witch flicked and spun the blade in her fingers, faster and faster. Eventually, the thin sharpness cut a red line into her palm. Grimm put her mouth to it to suck the blood and seal it with saliva.

She then, suddenly touched her hand over her heart. Under her cloak was a certain tattoo. “Wait a minute. Does that mean my Origin Magic would be effective?”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. “I must admit, I had not considered it. A rather embarrassing oversight, on my part.”

“It’s not exactly something to be used in a fight, but in this case...Chipping away at a person’s soul, huh?”

“It is a gamble. The Origin Magic may prove especially potent against Voldemort’s current state, or ineffective due to the same reason.”

“Funny how often ‘gambles’ and ‘only option’ coincide. Unless, you’ve got something with better odds. Maybe, a secret weapon to take Voldemort out that _doesn’t_ involve us dueling him until he ceases to exist?”

“….We shall see,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Considering we’re using Potter as bait, You’re being rather nonchalant about all this. Not that it’s unusual for you, but I thought you had plans for the Boy Who Lived. Not worried at all about what might happen to him out there?”

“On the contrary, I am rather curious as to what _will_ happen to him.”

Grimm grunted with annoyance. “Figures.” She stood up from the chair. “Always something up your sleeve. Wouldn’t hurt to let us in on the whole of your plans, you know. We _are_ on the same side— _aren’t we?_ ”

A momentary look of disdain crossed and she turned on her heel to leave.

“Grimm,” Dumbledore called after her.

“What?”

“…….Despite your harbored misgivings about me, no one understands your burdens or the course of your actions, better than I.”

“Somehow, I really doubt that.”

“Just something to keep in mind, Grimm. There was a reason we chose you, not solely on the recommendation of Alastor.”

“…”

“All of you have a mind that Norse made for the perfect Forgiven candidate, but you see…”

“No way. You are not about to say _I_ am your prized pupil.”

“You and I possess the vision. We see what must be done, and we _act_. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“This isn’t a ‘you and I are not so different’ speech, is it? You know, Albus, only the bads make that kind of spiel.”

The Headmaster removed his spectacles to eye her clearly. So piercing was his stare, that Grimm was reminded why Dumbledore was the only one Voldemort ever feared.

“Sometimes, we are tasked with the awful means to bring about a _greater good_. And we must make do without the convenience of guilt or remorse.” He leaned forward and spoke as if he were whispering right in her ear. “But not to worry. The debts of our actions will catch up to us one day and demand their price, inevitably so.”

Grimm felt a cold shiver travel down her spine.

Dumbledore’s voice resonated like a distant thunder.

_“But for now, you must stay the course.”_

.

** Part 2 **

.

.

It was late afternoon when classes ended.

The time was free for students to do what they liked until supper time came. Some used it to have fun with their friends, few used it to practice spells, and fewer still, used it to do homework.

Halfway to evening time, Grimm found Neville sitting with Norse and Liar in the Quidditch Field. She thought to join them for a moment, but hearing their distant laughter dissuaded her of the idea. The witch felt her sudden intrusion would only dampen their spirits, and chose to walk away.

As Grimm reached one of the thresholds leading into the school, she heard running steps behind her. When she turned around, she saw Neville with his hands on his knees, panting for dear life.

“Neville? What are you—“

“I saw you from a distance…! Or at least…! I thought it was you…!”

“Norse and Liar put you up to this?”

“They noticed…! But they didn’t want to say anything.”

“Okay, well. Take your time and catch your breath. I’d prefer it you spoke complete sentences without getting blue in the face.”

“Thank you…!”

And with that, Neville dropped to the ground there and sat. Grimm was uneasy for a moment, but chose to settle herself next to him. All was quiet for a while, as the only sound heard was the young boy’s debilitated breathing.

With a nimble flicker, like a magician performing a card trick, Grimm pulled an old picture from her pocket and handed it to Neville. The boy took the photograph and stared at it for a while.

The edges were soft and worn, and the color was fading. Wrinkles strew the paper. It smelled of black coffee and stale tobacco.

But the moment Neville held it, he recognized it as something precious.

In the moving photograph was Frank and Alice Longbottom, as well as Alastor Moody. The three of them looked to be in horrible shape. Their clothes were torn and burned, clear cuts and bruises marked the bare parts of their skin. They were all standing in front of a smoldering ruin that could only be the aftermath of a long, hard battle.

In spite of all that, his parents and even Moody, had great big grins plastered on their faces. His father was missing a tooth. His mother was bleeding from one eye. Their hair, covered in soot, but they looked at the camera, beaming with pride and flipping the middle finger.

“Don’t have many pictures of Alice and Frank like that around the house, I bet.”

Neville bobbed his head awkwardly and stared at the picture again.

Grimm was right.

For all the pictures of his parents, the ones his grandmother kept on display always portrayed them as proud and noble. They were moments of receiving rewards and commendations. Newspaper clippings of their Auror work. Some had Frank and Alice posing with members of the Order of the Phoenix. They always looked so stoic and proper. Heroes to be lived up to and adored.

But the photo Grimm handed him was a complete opposite of all that. His parents were animated, shouting something up at him, which he could tell were obscenities. It warmed his heart and brought hot tears to his eyes.

Neville went to hand it back, but Grimm shook her head.

“Keep it. It’s yours now. Figure you’d like something of your parents that showed a bit more character.”

The boy gripped the picture tighter and sobbed softly for a little while. When he calmed down a bit more, he noticed something peculiar about the photograph. The spacing between the people seemed off.

A thought came to mind.

“Grimm? How did you get this picture?”

“Oh, it’s just an old thing from my Auror days.” She pointed to a blank space in the photo, next to his mother. “I was in the picture, there. That was a crazy Tuesday,” Grimm reminisced. “Sting operation went completely tits up. We had bad intel. Botched up the whole timing, and we fought a whole hive of bads, while their boss got away.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. Probably wondering why they’re all smiling, huh? Well, that’s because it was my first, wet Auror case. They said I did well all things considered it was a proper fock up,” Grimm chuckled.

Neville looked at her and then the photograph.

“But why aren’t you in the picture?”

“Secrets, secrets, Neville. No one’s supposed to know how I look, much less an actual picture of me existing.”

“But…! Isn’t that— _sad?”_

She shook her head. “I don’t really like these kinds of things in the first place. Not very sentimental, you know. Don’t like looking back on simpler times.”

“Grimm.”

“Hm?”

“Could you show me how you looked in this picture?”

“What? Why on earth would you want to see that?”

“Please?”

“Look, Neville. I understand the curiosity, but if you keep asking, I’m going to have to hex you.”

“Grimm this is important. Just for a second?”

“…..Fine, but only because of outstanding circumstances you are not aware of, I feel like I owe you something for what might happen later.”

Grimm tapped the blank space on the picture with her wand, and the visage of a young girl came slowly into existence. Neville’s eyes went wide at seeing the small figure clutching his mother’s waist. The girl’s face was bandaged and her nose was broken, but the look of defiance smirked back at him. He could hardly believe this was the same woman sitting next to him.

Even Grimm barely recognized her younger self. She was so bright and full of fire back then. The girl in the picture would have spat at the person she was now, and the thought twisted her insides.

_This is why I hate sentimental shit…_

_Nothing, but grief in what happy memories are. The best times of my life are behind me. Now, it’s all pain and gloom, but at least there’s solace in that._

_If someone put me under a True Crucio, they’d probably flood me with all the happy thoughts I’d rather forget._

Grimm was about to tap the photo with her wand again, but Neville blocked her.

“I like it better this way. No one would recognize you, if they saw it. I won’t frame it or anything, just keep it hidden to look at sometimes.”

“That’s not a good idea, Neville.”

“ _Please,_ Grimm.”

The witch scratched her head in frustration. She didn’t want to dwell on the matter any longer.

“DON’T show it to anyone, or I’ll kill you! Understand?”

“….Yeah,” Neville stared.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I kind of realized. You’re just like this all the time, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Like what all the time?”

“Mean. Angry.”

“Oh, that? Yeah, I guess so.”

“Even when you’re trying to be nice?”

“Force of habit.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“I—“ Grimm hesitated. “I don’t hate you, Neville. You’re a good kid.” She took a deep breath to choose her next words carefully. “If this is an honest to truths moment, I’ll tell you there _are_ moments where you kind of frustrate me. Okay? Like enough to start bleeding out my ears.”

“Okay.”

“But I could never hate you. You really are a good kid and I’d do anything to keep you safe. You’re young, but you’re turning out well. Could be doing better in your classes, but at least you’re not failing. Making good friends, specially that Granger. Not running with a shitty crowd or nothing. No bad habits to speak of. Alice and Frank would be happy with you. _Are!_ They ARE happy with you. Oh, fock, cocking, bull—”

“…..You’re a good person, Grimm.”

“No, I’m not, Neville. No…That, I am not.”

The witch plucked up a few hairs of grass they were sitting on and blew them into the wind. Neville glanced at the picture and the crooked smile of the younger Grimm.

“You should make up with Norse and Liar,” he said.

“Aw, geez. _You_ don’t worry about us. We fight all the time, friends fight. It’ll pass— _probably.”_

“Friends shouldn’t fight.”

“Oh, yes, they do. Of course, they do.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because if one friend is behaving like an absolute prick, it’s the duty of the other one to try to knock some shit into the idiot friend’s arse. Pardon the language.”

“Then, shouldn’t you be listening to them?”

“Are you implying that I’m the prick in this?”

“No! I—“

“Just kidding, Neville. It’s fine to think that way. But from my point of view, they’re the ones who are wrong, see?”

“Then how do you solve your problems.”

“Who knows. Maybe wait until one of us wins? If we’re unlucky, time will solve it for us, but that always takes too long.”

“So, you think it’s good to fight?”

“I think it’s good my friends stand up to me and I stand up to them. I’d never wish for them to hold back, no matter how much it hurts.”

“Okay…”

Grimm used Legilimens to read some of Neville’s thoughts, and then clapped him on the shoulder.

_“You should never be afraid to stand up for what you believe, even if it’s in the face of your own friends. That takes a special kind of courage.”_

_._

** Part 3 **

_._

Night fell, and the Forgiven were readying their gear to head out.

Grimm was drinking her usual black coffee. Liar was smoking cigarette after cigarette. And Norse was knocking back a glass, while listening to some music. The three barely spoke a word to each other.

When it was time to leave, the Forgiven mounted their brooms from the tower’s balcony. There was no risk of being seen, so they could fly directly from their base of operations to the forest.

They slid their masks over their faces like knights donning their helms. Their eyes looked to the east with purpose.

Right as they were about to take off, Grimm tapped Norse and Liar on the shoulder.

“Look, you two….I….” She blinked for a few moments. “I’ve got your backs. And I—need you with me. Or else, I can’t do this alone. You know I hate asking for help, right?”

“We hear you, boss.” Liar showed her a small smile. “You can always rely on us. That never changes. Ever.”

**“We are sworn, sister. From now, and to our last days— _I walk with you._ ”**

At that moment, Grimm made a silent promise to herself that when they returned, she would try all she could to clear the air between them.

“Now then,” Liar clapped his hands. “This is, without a doubt, a long and terrible night in the making. Problems ahead for sure. But one day, we’ll all look back on this and laugh. So let us go make some happy memories, shall we?”

Grimm and Norse gave bitter chuckles.

_I hate happy memories, though._

With Grimm’s last thought, the Forgiven set to the skies.

 


	34. Elicio Hostium

** Chapter 34 – Elicio Hostium **

.

_Previously on The Forgiven:_

_Grimm, Liar, and Norse head into the Forbidden Forest to shadow Harry Potter, who they are using as bait to draw out Voldemort._

.

.

_“I swear, if Malfoy keeps focking around, I might just curse him and blame it on Voldemort.”_

_“Every bit the twat his father is, isn’t he? Do you think daddy was proud of his first words, or his first pretentious snivel?”_

Trailing behind Harry Potter, Malfoy, and Fang, as they made their way through the Forbidden Forest, were the members of the Forgiven. Grimm following in her fox form, while trying to remain as close as possible without detection. Norse, Liar, and Firenze behind her.

 ** _“_** _Should I, perhaps, eliminate the contemptuous child?”_ the Centaur proposed awkwardly.

**_“No, Firenze. We merely delve ourselves in senseless banter to stave off the bouts of boredom and nerves. Think nothing of it.”_ **

_“Yeah, but just in case Malfoy is a midget Death Eater after Potter too. If he does anything strange, put an arrow between his eyes!”_

**_“Grimm!”_ **

_“I’m only half kidding. The other half is me not putting it past Voldemort to prepare something like that.”_

_“ **Even so…”**_

The Forgiven continued to follow the two boys and dog into the next hour.

An eerie silence pervaded the evening woods. It was not unusual for the Forbidden Forest to be quieter at night. On the contrary, the place teemed with life and all manner of magical creature; many of the sort nocturnal. But the hush of tonight’s air was especially distilling. It was as if the Forest itself was giving _something_ a wide berth, undaring to tread remotely close to some shadow sinister.

 _“A presence wanders this night,”_ Firenze thought to them.

 _“You can sense Voldemort?”_ Grimm asked.

_“No….this is something else...Something that does not belong here. Do none of you feel it?”_

_“I’ve got nothing. Don’t smell anything out of place either. Norse? Liar?”_

_“Nothing on my end, boss.”_

**_“I sense nothing amiss, but Firenze is more attuned to the nature of the Forest. I believe it wise to heed his word.”_ **

**_“_** _Agreed,”_ Grimm paused. _“This isn’t some Divination thing, is it?”_

 _“No,”_ Firenze answered. _“The presence is…._ unnatural _to the Forest_. _No, it is more than that._ ”

_“How so?”_

_“It breathes. It is a ‘creature’ and it breathes, but it is not possessing of what makes a life, a life.”_

_“Firenze?”_

_“There are two of them. They breathe and breathe, but I cannot understand them.”_

_“What?“_

_“It draws closer. It’s existence is all wrong, intangible, impossible.”_

_“Firen—“_

_“There is only……”_

The Centaur could see the vapored breath of his next word.

“…..Cold.”

At that moment, all of the Forgiven exhaled simultaneously and saw mist float before their eyes. Electricity shot across their Legilimens network as their thoughts came to the same conclusion.

The feeling could only be one thing.

If that wasn’t enough, Grimm picked up on a new scent. It was the smell of a dying creature, its blood fresh in the air.

The Forgiven and Firenze snapped into action, like runners from a gunshot.

In the same moment, Harry Potter came upon a shade dining on the dead carcass of a unicorn.

.

************************

.

 _“Firenze! Get Potter to safety!!!”_ Grimm yelled through her telepathy.

The Centaur needed no instruction.

With all the strength of his lower body, Firenze leapt to Potter’s defense, standing himself between the boy and Voldemort. He kicked hard with his front hooves and fired an arrow into the attacking shade.

The creature’s black clothes swallowed the projectile and fell back, seemingly driven off.

Moving through the surrounding trees were Grimm, Liar, and Norse. The three began in desperate pursuit of Voldemort, who seemed to glide across the ground with ease. Out of the Forgiven, only Grimm kept decent pace with her fox form. The other two, beginning to fall behind.

 _“Norse and I will take to the air,”_ Liar’s voice resounded in Grimm’s head. _“We’ll try to cut him off ahead.”_

_“Be careful! Firenze said there were two of them, but we should expect more!”_

_“Oh, wonderful happy thoughts.”_

Liar and Norse mounted their brooms and ascended above the treetops. Still hard on her dead run, Grimm harried after Voldemort below. Her eyes never blinking, never daring to let him slip from her sight. Animal instinct took over, and all the fox focused on was capturing her prey.

Even in lieu of the two dark figures that escorted their master’s side.

The Forgiven were prepared for an ambush. They dangled obvious bait for Voldemort, and they knew he would not appear without taking proper precautions—but even this was outside their wildest predictions.

Two Dementors flew on the left and right of Voldemort. Their dark, ethereal cloaks flapped silently in the wind. Thin, almost skeleton-like frames. A hollow wheeze escaped from under their hoods, and the world cringed away from the cold. Voldemort himself, seemed to slow in their presence.

The reaction did not pass Grimm’s notice. She saw the Dementors weaken him. Although, they may not have meant to, they siphoned traces of their master’s already fragmenting soul.

Biting chills invaded the woods and began to hamper Grimm’s progress as well. She was more vulnerable than most to the effects of Dementors. More susceptible to the growing darkness around her. The distant sounds of cries and tragedy echoed closer and closer as the pursuit went on.

_Where are Liar and Norse?_

_Were there Dementors in the sky too?_

_How long have I been running?_

Her skin pricked with frost and her bones felt like ice. The sweat beating down her, drew cold trails across her body.

_No. I can’t be sweating. I’m—_

Grimm gave a head shudder, trying to bring her senses to bear. She was still in her fox form, so she had no sweat glands. The Dementor’s effects had her hallucinating for a split second. When she looked ahead of her, Voldemort was widening the distance.

_I need to end this, now._

_Norse and Liar might not make it in time, before I lose them._

_He’s vulnerable to the Dementors._

_With my Origin Magic, I can take him down alone!_

Her top priority was putting an immediate stop to Voldemort’s flight. She would have a narrow window to do this. One spell, executed with needle point precision. There would be no time for a second chance, if she missed.

With a patience she only possessed because of Moody’s rigorous training, the Forgiven witch held back. She couldn’t risk the spell getting caught on a tree or the smallest branch. If the spell hit one of the Dementors instead, Voldemort would get away. Grimm needed to wait for the right moment where she had enough clear sight of him.

Finally, the moment came to pass. They reached a section that was fairly clear of foliage. Grimm changed from her Animagus form mid-step and brandished her wand. Her eyes burned into the back of Voldemort’s cape.

With wordless incantation, she casted.

_Gladii Affigo!_

The wind and space around her folded into invisible swords. They flew like spears, hefted at full tilt. The air whistled as the blades traversed the distance and pierced into Voldemort’s body. The magic sunk through and impaled him onto the nearest tree.

Blood dripped down the translucent weapons, followed by a most unholy scream.

The cry brought a satisfied smile to Grimm’s lips.

.

****************

.

The body pinned to the tree writhed and howled.

Grimm could hardly help, but laugh a little at how pathetic the shade now seemed.

_Is this really Voldemort?_

“GET HER, YOU FOOLS!!!!” the man howled.

_Wait! That voice…_

“Quirrell?!”

But before she could question it further, the two Dementors soared towards her like hungry shadows.

The edges of Grimm’s vision clouded. Distant screams and cries pierced her ears from afar. Her breath went bated as rapid puffs of air escaped into the cold atmosphere. But like a masterful swordsman, the witch arced her wand towards the oncoming foes; against the protests of her mind. Her body overwrote any conscious command. Now, she only needed to speak the words.

“Expecto PATRONUM!!!”

A small, white cloud of vapor puffed from the wand. It was a pitiful wisp of a thing that could fit in the palm of a hand. Only a faint gleam of silver held within it.

Grimm looked on in shock at the pathetic patronus.

“What the fo—“

The Dementors were on her. They snuffed the small bit of patronus she was able to produce.

_Come on, you idiot!! This isn’t the time to lose your nerve!!!_

Grimm badgered herself and retreated back a few paces. Trained footwork saved her from falling backward, like practiced fencer. A few seconds earned to recollect.

She concentrated on her memories, searching for one to produce a full patronus charm.

_I hate happy memories…_

The thought killed her concentration.

She grasped for memories of Tonks, of her parents, of anything she had used as a catalyst for the spell in the past.

But the memories hurt. She shunned them, and they shunned her in return. They were only making things worse.

Her consciousness was fading. The screams were getting louder. She could feel tears running down and streaking her lips.

_“Expecto….Patron…us…”_

Nothing.

One of the Dementors stepped forward and grabbed her by the throat. Its mouth made a meal of Grimm’s memories and emotions. Pulling her face closer and closer to its hood.

She could feel the Dementor’s Kiss coming. Unable to see through her tears and dimming vision, she still knew. The dark creature rattled with an unnerving rhythm. Its hands clutched tighter around the vessel of its delicious soul.

…

_Fock this._

Grimm’s fingers still wrapped around her wand in a death grip, pointed its end at the Dementor’s stomach.

_“CRUCIO!!!”_

Pain wracked her mind, but she felt the shadow entity drop her from its grasp. She massaged her neck and gave a labored cough, as her feet touched the ground.

Grimm backed away and aimed for the second approaching Dementor.

_“Crucio!”_

Energies of blue and black linked the apparition to her wand.

The spell fluctuated with abnormality. No concrete idea of torture existed in the aberration’s mind. It felt suffering, but not pain per se. As a result, the Cruciatus Curse succeeded in stunning it, but not much else.

Grimm concentrated on conjuring a death wish for the Dementors. To hate, to kill, to end; she fed into those vicious thoughts.

_“Avada…”_

Green sparked from the end of her wand and fizzled. The instrument cracked and splintered into ash in her hands.

Grimm fell to the ground. The witch’s knees finally giving out.

In her semi-hallucinated state, she glared into the “face” of the descending Dementors. She hated them so much. Loathed them with everything she could. But not because of what they are, or what they did.

It was because she understood them all too well. The hunger of wanting the light, only to taint it. To drag others into one’s own misery. To feed on another’s happiness, and make it their own.

It was a sick, perverse desire, she _also_ possessed.

With her last thread of consciousness, she clenched the part of the cloak above her heart. The tattoo branded underneath glowed to her summons. It was her final resort. Her last play at overcoming the Dementors and her secret weapon against Voldemort.

Grimm uttered a soft incantation to activate her Origin Magic.

.

_“Elicio Hostium.”_

_._

Past traumas flowed forth like a broken dam. Her most scarred memories bled like freshly cut wounds. The sanity she gripped on to stave off the Dementors was now gone. Grimm no longer heard the screams coming in—instead, they were breaking out.

Dark clouds swelled from her mouth. They traveled down her body like brushstrokes of black ink. Cloth tied around her eyes, robbing her of her sight. Stokes of shadow folded over the witch’s head to weave her a corporeal hood. Her visage wrapped in the surging veil until nothing of her was clear.

Grimm rose to her feet and stood, mirrored with the Dementors in front of her. The only thing differentiating them was their height.

Her Origin Magic lent her temporary form to those of the vilest creatures of the earth. The spell required the concentration of her darkest memories. To bring them to life with a vividness only further fueled by the presence of the Dementors.

It was everything the patronus charm was not. Its direct opposite.

The curse reflected Grimm’s nature at its most basic. She devoured the life of those around her with a craving that would never be satiated.

This was the witch’s ace against Voldemort, whose soul was fragile to a Dementor’s touch.

Normally, Grimm only used this magic to deliver punishment or interrogation. Occasions were few to use it. This one was an extremely rare instance indeed.

Her hands lunged at the Dementors before her, threatening to devour them, but they glided away with a fearful haste. They recognized the threat she posed and wanted nothing of the experience they had inflicted on countless others.

Grimm’s mind struggled to remember her purpose. She could not see through the cloth binding her eyes, but smelled— _felt_ the life of others and their delicious emotions. Her world turned to one divided by black and white; defined only by what she could eat and what she could not. Guided by hunger and little else, she charged one of the Dementors again, more forcefully this time.

The phantom wormed in her grasp, trying to break free. Grimm’s mouth pried open, larger than her jaw should have allowed. And then, chomped down into her quarry, ripping through morsel after morsel.

_Devour…_

_DevoUr…_

_DeVOuR…_

A second Dementor limped dead and eaten in her hands. She dropped the husk without the slightest ceremony, like a pile of unwanted rags. Grimm turned to Professor Quirrell.

In the teacher’s body, Voldemort raged. He took control of the host and forced Quirrell to shed a large portion of his body.

The sounds of fabric and flesh could be heard ripping. But he was free from the magic affixing him to the tree.

With great pains, the parasite and its host made their desperate attempt to escape.

Grimm’s presence drained them of their life and stamina, but Voldemort and Quirrell pressed on.

Just when it seemed the witch’s girth was about to consume them, it stopped. The “Dementor’s” arms settled to its sides in a lifeless sort of way. Its hood bent down, indicating her face was directed to the ground.

Unbothered by this strange turn of events, Quirrell limped hurriedly into the forest….

.

****************

.

Blood trickled from Liar’s head and down his nose. Across from him, taking cover behind a different tree, was Norse.

Not long after they took flight, were they attacked by giant, summoned birds. Troll Garden’s magi had no trouble commanding their servants against the Forgiven, who flew under the bright moon and without any sort of cover.

Liar’s broom was damaged following the assault and forced to land. Norse following after.

As soon as they touched ground, spells and primitive weapons the size of street poles flew at the them from the shadows. The mercenaries and their trolls fought hard to keep the pair at bay, preventing them from reuniting with their leader. Precious time wasted with no hope of reprise.

While entrenched for what seemed like an eternity, the attacks suddenly ceased.

Caution warned Norse and Liar of the abrupt stop in the battle. The two didn’t leave their cover for some time, only when they safely knew they were no longer in danger. An uncomfortable feeling set in the pits of their stomachs.

**_“Why would they suddenly retreat? Could Voldemort have evaded Grimm in the time we were stalled?”_ **

_“I can’t imagine why else. Shite! I’m worried about Grimm.”_

**_“As am I. Let us make haste. Voldemort’s time will come, but it will not be tonight.”_ **

_“I’ll move on foot and you cover the air?”_

Norse nodded and mounted her broom.

The two scoured the Forbidden Forest, backtracking and then following the path of Grimm’s pursuit. Eventually, finding themselves at the site of their leader’s and Voldemort’s confrontation.

To their surprise, they found Firenze standing nearby in a state of wary confusion. When Norse and Liar drew closer, they saw the source of the Centaur’s apprehension.

It was a Dementor, kneeling on the ground, next to the torn shreds of what could only be the remains of two other Dementors. The hooded creature showed no sign of life or recognition. Like it were trapped in some sort of trance, it “stared” in a complete daze.

Norse brought her hands to her mouth.

**“It’s Grimm.”**

“Her Origin Magic….It’s never done this before.”

“ _That_ being is Grimm?” Firenze asked in disbelief.

“We must be careful. Norse, on the mark.”

Norse nodded and lifted her wand with a motion that matched Liar’s.

**_“Expecto Patronum.”_ **

_“Expecto Patronum.”_

A silvery lizard and penguin leapt from the two’s wands and flew towards Grimm with elegant movement. The patronuses circled the dark one with nursing care. After a time passed, they nuzzled up to the witch and started dissipating the black vestments garbing her.

The moment Grimm’s Origin Magic was no longer present, Norse and Liar rushed down to her. Still kneeling and deathly still, the two embraced her from each side. Their leader’s body felt cold in their arms. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes refused to open.

“Grimm! GRIMM!!!”

While Liar shouted, Norse shook her, trying to rouse her from her sleep.

**“Is she wounded in some way? Cursed?”**

The wizard checked her over once and then again; running his wand across her body, before vigorously shaking his head.

“There’s nothing. I don’t understand. On your feet, boss. There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong, so wake the fock up!!” Liar started yelling again.

But the witch remained still.

The wizard casted Legilimency.

“Something’s wrong. Something is very, seriously wrong.”

Norse gave Grimm’s cheek a few short slaps.

Still no response.

_“Grimm! WAKE UP!!! GRIMM!!!!”_

**Author's Note:**

> Release Format: A chapter daily at the most and once a week at the latest.
> 
> If you liked the story, please share it.
> 
> Thank you for reading and your support!


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